


The Spy who Loved Me (Or so they say)

by ToriCeratops



Series: You Only Live Twice [1]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Denial of Feelings, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hacking, M/M, Masturbation, Mission Fic, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pretty Woman References, Slow Burn, Undercover, more oblivious about their own feelings, oblivious idiots, spy movie hacking, than those of the other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-20 20:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 54,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3664047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToriCeratops/pseuds/ToriCeratops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of V-day the world’s economy hangs in a delicate balance, liable to crumble without warning.  One man has the knowledge and the power necessary to send it tumbling down, so that only he remains on top.</p><p>The Kingsman have been tasked with stopping him before he can carry out his plan. In order to do so, Harry and Eggsy must act as lovers at an elite couple’s getaway to earn this man’s trust. Will they be able to carry out their mission as planned? Or will old wounds and buried emotions cause a havoc greater than anything they could have expected?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude

 

**Prelude**

“Rox.  Roxy, baby, light of my world love of my life greatest thing to ever happen to an arse like me.  Please.”

“No.”

“I – Rox!”  Eggsy whines and stamps his foot.  He realizes how ridiculous it looks while he’s wearing his newest suit but at the moment he doesn’t much care.  “You won’t even consider it?”  

She gives him a quick, flat look with a single raised eye-brow then returns her focus to the tablet in her hands.  “I can’t do this mission for you.  You know that.”

“I’m not asking you to do my mission.  I’m _begging_ you to find a way to bugger off yours.  Because I’m the only one who could fill in for you last minute and then that means I won’t have to go on this one.”

After almost half an hour of the same argument and only making it through one page of the dossier she was supposed to have memorized by the next morning Roxy has had enough.  She carefully places her tablet on the coffee table – her coffee table, in her flat, which Eggsy had barged into like a raving lunatic – and stands.  In a few steps she is standing in front of her best friend with her hands on his shoulders and puts on her best pout of exaggerated sympathy. 

“Eggsy, I’m going to tell you what to do.  So listen closely.”

“Right.  Good.  ‘M listening.”

She takes a deep breath.  “Woman up.  Put on your fucking big girl knickers and deal with it.”

For a moment Eggsy looks offended.  But eventually he sags and just looks resigned.  “This is a terrible idea.  Worst mission I’ve ever been handed.”  The look of utter defeat in his eyes almost makes her feel bad for him.

Almost.

“I know baby boy.”  She pats his cheek before giving him the lightest of kisses.  “At least it isn’t the end of the world.”

Eggsy steps back and falls into the love seat with a sigh, dropping his head back.  “No, no.  Give me the end of the world.  _That,_ I could deal with!”

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m not convinced this is the best course of action.”

The computer screens in front of Merlin all freeze with the quick press of a button before he turns slowly to address Harry.  He pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath to steel himself for this. 

He heard it coming the second he saw where their target was heading.

“Arthur.  We don’t have the time to wait.  He leaves in two days.  He will be there the entire week.  Our deadline is the day after his return.  There is no choice.”  Not that he would want to offer up another one if there was.  He’ll never admit it to Harry, but Merlin is having way too much fun pressing the matter.

For his part, Harry hides his frustration extremely well.  To an outside observer he would look completely composed.  But there’s a small, barely noticeable tic in his eye and he’s got his thumb tucked under his index finger and held tight down at his side.  If several decades watching the man has taught Merlin anything, it’s that Harry is a nervous wreck at the moment and in the process of denying it to himself.

Harry visibly swallows.  “Lancelot –“

“Leaves for her own mission tomorrow afternoon.  Besides, she wouldn’t exactly blend in.” 

There are more arguments Harry has, Merlin can see it - can almost hear every one of them.  But he doesn’t make them.  He remains quiet, standing tall and too proud to beg though Merlin would put money down that he’s closer right then than he’s ever been in his life.  “Arthur, you and Galahad are the best team this organization has ever seen.  You practically share a mind you work so well together.  There are others here who could do this with you, yes.”   Merlin watches Harry’s eyebrows go up slightly, a sad sort of look in his eyes that makes him even surer that this is the best course of action.  “But think about it, Harry.  Is there anyone but Eggsy you’d rather have at your side?”

The only sign that Merlin’s words affect him is the way that Harry’s chest deflates with the smallest of sighs.  He closes his eyes and his lips press together in an almost reluctant smile.  “No.  No there really isn’t.”

 

* * *

 

 

Fog rests heavy over the estate, thick and damp, filling Roxy’s lungs with harsh, cold mist as she breathes harder on her early morning run.  At her side Merlin keeps pace, not even breathing heavily.  The bastard. 

“Please tell me that the Pavus mission is your doing.”  They’re finally far enough away from the building that she feels comfortable that Arthur _might_ not have ears out here.

Merlin’s laugh is sudden and loud.  “No.  God do I wish it was though.  That’s entirely Arthur’s doing.  Poor bastard didn’t see it coming even if he should have.”

“Oh?” 

His laughter dies down, though he is no less amused.  “He made contact with Sir Whitehall a few years ago as a person of interest in an unrelated mission.  They met at a – _gentleman’s –_ club for more distinguished men with certain interests in much younger men.”

Roxy frowns.  “How much younger?”

“Not young enough to be an issue.”  He assures her and she breathes a little easier.  “But the point is, Whitehall knows Arthur.  Well, he knows Marcus West anyway.  And when you have an in, you use it.”

They run a little further while Roxy thinks it all over, no more sympathetic for Harry than she was Eggsy the previous evening.  “So let me get this straight.  Because Arthur has an in with Sir Whitehall, he’s the one who has to make contact.”

“Yes.”

“And he has to make contact and get the information we need in the next six days or it will be too late.”

“Of course.”  Merlin gave her a smug grin because he knew what came next.

“And in order to do this, he has to spend the week at a retreat for extremely wealthy business men and their unconventional younger male lovers.  But it’s couples only.  So he has to take someone.”

“Right again.”

“So Eggsy.”

“The one and only.” 

For a long while Roxy is silent, but then, finally - and freely - Roxy laughs.  She laughs until she can’t properly run or even really catch her breath between her laughter and how long she’s been running.  She leans down, resting her hands on her knees until she can speak clearly, looking up to see that Merlin has stopped just a few feet away.  “They are either going to kill each other – “

“Or come back so thoroughly fucked that neither of _us_ will have to listen to them complain about the other ever again.”

With an amused sigh, Roxy shakes her head.  “I feel you are severely underestimating Eggsy’s capacity to complain about Harry Hart.”

In answer, Merlin shrugs.  “If it helps, I _know_ I’m underestimating Harry’s.”

 

 

 


	2. Day One : 0700

Four hours.

That’s how long it takes to fly from London to Santorini. 

It’s also how long Harry has to sit face-to-face with Eggsy in a tiny, pressurized cabin and discuss the finer details of how madly in love with each other they are.  Well, at least how madly in love their covers are.

He’s trying valiantly not to think about how they’re actually going to have to act it out for the next week.

The tablet in his hands shows all of the details of their relationship:  where and when they met, how long it took them to become an item (four hours, ironically enough). There were even pictures.  The images of them together had been strategically placed around various social networking sites just in case anyone really went digging.  When he had first been shown them he’d made a cursory glance and offhanded comment asking Merlin how well the manipulations had been done.  Merlin had stared just long enough for Harry to begin to feel awkward, then sighed.  “Arthur.  I swear on everything this organization stands for that no one will find a hint of alteration to these photographs.”

At the time he hadn’t thought much of it other than possibly having offended his friend.

But now he doesn’t have a dozen other matters that require his immediate attention.  So he takes a closer look.  He is startled, for lack of a better word, to realize that Merlin’s silence had not been from insult, but from disbelief.  Every single photograph in the file had been genuine – collected from various cell phones no doubt.  There were pictures of them simply being together, laughing, talking, some alone, sometimes at parties where it was obvious there was a crowd but with no one else recognizable. There was one that to outside observers would look like they had asked someone to capture them on a date.  It hadn’t been, of course.  There are a few he doesn’t remember being taken where neither of them are really looking at whoever is snapping the picture. 

It is those he lingers on.

Harry looks, and he sees himself.  He knows it’s him – his wrinkled and weathered face.  But the smile is hardly recognizable as his own.  He looks up, briefly, at Eggsy who is sitting across from him reading his own file with a frown.

Harry’s more disheartened by that than he feels he has a right to be.

When he does look back down he finds he can barely focus any longer and winds up flicking his tablet into the empty seat next to his own with a heavy sigh. 

This mission is more important than any they’ve had in recent months – one of the reasons he has returned to the field – and he cannot afford to be distracted.  Can’t afford to let anything slip.

“Enough with the rote memorization.”  He starts while looking out at the clouds that extend beyond his sight. 

Across from him Eggsy stirs, just a small shift in his seat that makes Harry think he may be uncomfortable.  “Alright.  Then what?”  He doesn’t put his tablet down, though Harry’s fairly certain he hasn’t actually touched the screen in a good fifteen minutes.

“We need to set some parameters.  Rules that we would have for what is acceptable and unacceptable in a public setting.”  He turns to look at Eggsy who is frowning in thought. 

“Rules.  Like no snogging at the end of the bar?”

“Quite.”

“But these ain't our bound’ries are they?”  He holds up his device, screen facing away from Harry.  “It’s theirs.”

Harry nods.  “And in order to understand what those would be, we have to actually understand their relationship.  Who they are together as well as apart.”

Eggsy is oddly fidgety.  It is barely noticeable but the toe of his shoe is moving enough Harry can see it and he’s tapping his fingers away at the back of his tablet. 

“I guess my first question is, well, I’m officially your PA, yeah?”

Harry nods again, silent.

“That job title can cover all manner of sins.  What, exactly, is it that I assist you with?  Mr. West.”  He adds almost as an afterthought, the address exaggerated in its formality.

For a moment Harry considers him, sees the tapping of his toes increase, the stiffness in the way he sits.  It’s not how he is used to seeing the young man and he doesn’t like it one bit.  So instead of simply answering, Harry uncrosses his legs and leans far forward, telegraphing his movements so Eggsy can stop them if need be, and places his hands lightly on Eggsy’s knees and gives them a quick squeeze.  When he looks up, Harry is startled to see that he looks like he’s forgotten how to breathe.  “You assist me with everything and _anything_ I may desire.”  He emphasizes the last word, draws it out without breaking eye contact.  Harry also resolutely ignores how much he likes the idea. 

It’s been quite some time since anything has felt as strained between them as the last two days have and Harry’s quite done with it.  The teasing works, and at first Eggsy seems to fight the growing smile until he can no longer hold back his laughter.

Just like that, the tension is broken.

For the time being.

“Alright.  I think I have it.”  Eggsy puts his hands over Harry’s and leans in close.  “You are a lecherous old man who can’t keep his hands off me.  Not that anyone would blame you, mind.  My body is quite irresistible.”  He gives Harry his best wink and Harry’s mouth does NOT go dry.

As if offended Harry pulls back and straightens his shoulders.  “Cocky.”  He admonishes, barely hiding a grin.

“Self-aware.”  Eggsy corrects and preens just the tiniest bit.  “I’ve a very important question.”  He barrels on before Harry can say anything else.  “And your answer will tell me what kind of man I am.”

Much more relaxed than a few minutes before, Harry leans back and gestures for him to continue.

“We met at a charity event a little over a month after V-day.  Something raising tons of money for all the orphans that bastard created, yeah.  Which I organized.”

“Helped.  Helped organize.”

“Whatever.  My question is this:  Were you actually there to help the orphans or just for the dog and pony show something that extravagant tends to be.  Ya know.  Be seen givin' the right people the right sized wad o' cash.”

Harry mulled that over for a minute, thinking back on how he had presented himself all those years before – what kind of character he had crafted in his mind.  “Let’s just say I have a terribly soft spot for lost causes.”   

When Eggsy laughs, Harry finds it impossible not to smile.

He wonders if that’s the smile he’d seen in all those pictures.

Three hours.

That’s how long they talk.  On and off, here and there.  They work out some of the finer details of their relationship, those that are too subtle to put on paper.  Comfort levels, favorite dates, how much they know about family – how serious they are.  At some point Harry remembers to pull out the little package Merlin had given him.  While they talk, as Eggsy looks on with interest, he wraps the thin material inside it around the base of his left ring finger and gives it a good long rub.  When it’s removed, it leaves behind a flawless looking tan line.  Harry – well, Marcus -  is supposed to have left a beautiful wife back in the states after all. 

They get the notice that they will be on approach in just a few minutes and both men settle back in their seats.

Eggsy stares out of the window towards the island they’re circling, preparing to land.   “This has nothin' to do with ‘us’ right, but, why ‘Vincent’?”  He says suddenly. 

“Vincent Edward Dunnigan?”  Harry shrugs.  “It was a compromise.”  At Eggsy’s single raised eye-brow, a silent question, he continues with the barest hint of a grin.  “Merlin wouldn’t let me call you Vivian.”

Eggsy’s laugh is short, but his smile fades slowly as he appears to think something over and peer back out of the window.  The silence isn’t anything new but Harry is worried, holding his tongue as to try and not push even though he’s aching to ask what’s wrong. 

“You mentioned earlier something about rules?  Boundaries in public an’ all?”  He doesn’t look back at Harry.

It’s an odd shift, but he nods.  “Yes.  It’s extremely important.”

For a moment that stretches out far too long Eggsy is silent, contemplative.  The light of the mid-morning sun filtered through the airplane windows puts a striking outline along his features, lighting up the green of his eyes with such brilliance that Harry can’t bring himself to look away.  Eventually Eggsy swallows, and forces a smile back onto his face.  “Lots of touching, small caresses, all that I got but-” He forces out a small chuckle and finally looks back to Harry.  “But I don’t kiss on the mouth.” 

It is part joke yet part something else that Harry doesn’t dare dwell on and far too heavy.  So he gives credence to the humor of it, nodding his head with his own weary smile.  “Neither do I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ But I never kiss on the mouth."](https://youtu.be/SiJaZXK3gLw)


	3. Day One : 1500

Pretending to be attracted to Harry Hart is the least of Eggsy’s worries.

Mostly because he doesn’t have to pretend.  God does he not have to pretend. 

In six days he has to befriend whichever piece of eye candy Sir Duncan Whitehall has brought along while Harry further ingratiates himself with the banking tycoon.  His cover, Marcus West, is from money that’s older than dirt and with more of it than any one person should ever know what to do with.  He’s also heavily invested in American politics and has been throwing his weight around in the restructuring of the massive power gap to suit his needs.  It only makes sense that he would try and be friendly with a man who has the power to topple Europe’s currently bone-china-brittle economy.

Especially since their client insists that is exactly what he is planning on doing. 

That’s not what’s got him worked up either though.  He’s done so much more with so much less.  And all without the most bad-ass man he’s ever met at his side to boot.

No. None of that is Eggsy’s problem.  Eggsy’s problem is that he is ridiculously attracted to Harry and desperately trying to keep it to himself.  He’s also convinced that all this closeness is going to be the death of him, or give him away.  Honestly he doesn’t know which one is worse. 

Roxy’s heard him complain about it enough, but she seems to understand his reasons (and there are a fuck ton of them) for not making a move.  Even if they are both reasonably sure he wouldn’t be turned down.  Of course, she’s not here. 

She’s on the other side of the globe.

Out of complaining range.

And Eggsy’s fucked.

The resort is on a small, private island a short boat ride west of Santorini, and it is absolutely breathtaking.  For a little while as they approach, Eggsy completely forgets himself and goes slack jawed in awe.  The building is set against the natural slope of the rock in the same style as the main island with multiple tiers of smooth, white facades and hints of blue in the accents around doors and windows.  Around the coast the water is crystal clear and sparkling, all the way up to a small cove that has several paths leading up to the building from the beach. 

A hand slips along the small of his back and suddenly Harry is standing right next to him, pressed close, holding him by his hip.  “Isn’t it beautiful, darling?  I told you that you would adore it.”  A flash of tension shoots through his spine, forgetting for the briefest of moments that there are over a dozen other passengers with them and that they’ve been in character for a good two hours. 

Eggsy shakes it off with an easy smile, trying not to let the way Harry called him darling make him go weak at the knees.  “Sorry.  I was distracted.”  He drops his head a little and let’s Harry press a soft kiss into his hair.  “You were – wow you were not wrong.”  Thinking ‘ _to hell with it’_ Eggsy throws himself into the role for the moment and leans back against the older man, bringing his arms up so they’re wrapped up together, Harry’s chin on his shoulder.  He doesn’t sigh.  But it’s a near thing.

“A hundred and twenty or so private rooms, every one identical with insignificant exceptions, all with their own spectacular view of the Aegean.”  Words as smooth as fine scotch fill his ear, close and as intimate as intended.  The man could be reciting the dictionary for all Eggsy would care or notice right then.  “More pools than you’ll know what to do with and a formal ballroom that is mostly open air.  When lit up at night it reflects against the water like stars.” 

He gives Harry a light nudge with his elbow.  “And just how do you know so much about it already?  I thought you swore you’d never brought anyone here before.”

“Hmm.”  Harry hums in his ear and, god, he can feel his damn smile.  “I did my research.”

He’s still too wound up for someone who is supposed to be in his lover’s arms about to begin a relaxing holiday. He’s also sure that Harry has noticed, but Eggsy must be hiding it well enough from everyone else since he hasn’t said anything.  Even being undercover has never stopped the man from finding discreet ways to correct him any chance he gets.  And yeah, ok.  Eggsy will admit that it’s one of the things he – well, he likes about Harry.  They spend the rest of the short ride to the island and all the time unloading and making their way up the winding steps along the cliff in silence, Eggsy lost in his own thoughts once more.  There are a lot of different courses their afternoon could take, depending on how long it takes them to ‘bump into’ their mark.  Plan A is to make the rounds of the buildings and grounds on an initial sweep, using the excuse of a leisurely stroll to work out their travel legs.  If they don’t get the information they need that way, which is more likely than not going to be the case, they will be making use of their actual skills in espionage to get what they want from the resort’s records. 

As it turns out, however, absolutely none of that is necessary. 

“In-fucking-credible.”  Someone shouts from the bar in the lounge just as Harry is finishing up a short conversation with the concierge.  They both turn to see what the commotion is about, instantly realizing it’s focused at them. 

Sitting slouched against the back of his chair, whiskey glass in one hand and smoking cigar in the other, is Sir Duncan Whitehall.  His hair is lightly gelled and combed back, five o’clock shadow leaning more towards 8 o'clock and his soft blue suit looks like he’s been lounging in that same spot all day.  He’s waving them over – ash falling on the ground unnoticed – with an excited, almost manic grin.  “What a fantastic week this is turning out to be!”

Eggsy gives Harry a quick questioning glance.  But Harry just shrugs.  Then he turns and gives the _very_ loud man a polite wave before silently gesturing for Eggsy to join him. 

“Duncan!”  Harry’s face breaks out into a practiced, almost patronizing, smile.  They shake hands after Whitehall sets his drink on the bar and greet each other as if they were old friends.  “What are the odds?”  Harry says.

Whitehall’s eyes immediately zero in on Eggsy – who has yet to be actually introduced.  He doesn’t bother to be discreet in how hard he is studying him, tracing the lines of his too tight dark wash denim jeans up along his tan blazer and lingering around his neck where the top two buttons of his white shirt are popped and purposely left wide open.  Despite how incredibly uncomfortable he finds the whole situation, Eggsy swallows his bile and gives the man a coy smile and wink.

“Oh….”  Whitehall says eventually, tearing his gaze away – thank god.  “I think those odds seem to have been pretty fucking high.”   He takes a quick drag of his cigar before setting that down as well.  As he snaps his fingers at the bartender down the way Harry presses himself closer to Eggsy and puts an extremely tight and possessive arm around his shoulders. 

With Harry’s touch he feels instantly and infinitely better.

“How have you been, Marcus?  How’s the missus?”    He snaps at the bartender again, apparently satisfied with the amount of attention he’s been given and silently gestures for another drink.

Eggsy officially hates him.

“Spending my fortunes and ignoring my existence as always.”  At Harry’s words Duncan laughs loudly and Eggsy notes redness around his eyes and the button undone about midway down his shirt.

“Ah, but that’s the way we like it is it not?  Come!  Sit.  Join me for a glass so we can properly catch up.”  The arm around Eggsy’s shoulders tightens when Harry shakes his head.

“I’m afraid we will have to pass for the moment.  We just arrived and after travelling all day we would really like to take a moment to get settled in.”

“I’m sure you would.”  The man actually waggles his eyebrows.

Eggsy is doing everything he can not to look as astounded, confused and pissed off as he feels. 

“Perhaps over dinner then?”  Harry offers. 

Thankfully, Whitehall agrees without much further argument.  A few more vaguely lewd comments later and they eventually make their escape. 

It’s gonna be a long week.

Finally on their way to the room they will be calling home, Eggsy can’t hold it in any longer.  “You are takin' the piss.”  He says less as an accusation and more as a statement of fact.

Harry’s shocked gaze makes him laugh.  It’s not often Eggsy let’s himself be crude around the older man any longer.  But there’s really no other way to put it at the moment.  “Pardon me?”

“That man.  The one with a whiskey stain on his tie and cigar spots on his fingers – THAT man owns one of the wealthiest banks in Europe?”  Harry starts to answer him but Eggsy keeps going.  “Y’ know what.  No.  I need to know somethin’ more important than his status.”

“And what is that?”

“How the FUCK did you manage to endear yourself to someone with such – character.” 

After a brief moment of staring, Harry breaks into laughter.  He’s still laughing as he unlocks the door to their room.  “You’re going to find out at dinner I’m quite sure.”

“If the arse even acknowledges me beyond my status as eye candy.” 

“He will when it’s convenient for him.  Though his partner will surely be at dinner and he will certainly be showing off for whomever he’s brought.”  Inside the door Harry tosses the keys – good, old-fashioned metal keys – onto the small side table and immediately moves towards their bags that have already been brought up. 

But Eggsy doesn’t notice.  He’s too busy checking out the room. 

There’s a rather large sitting area just past the entry with a long couch that looks like you could fall into it and it would immediately swallow you whole.  There’s a sliding room divider that’s a mix of brushed steel and chestnut wood, all clean lines like the rest of the room.  Beyond that he finds a bed even more luxurious looking than the couch and the inner child in Eggsy is aching to just jump into it.  An open plan bathroom is just off to the side from there, complete with massive garden tub that sits beneath a plate glass window.

It’s the view, however, that makes it truly amazing.   Not three feet from the end of the (thankfully king-sized) bed, sliding glass doors stand open to a small white balcony complete with two chairs and a small table.  But beyond that – it’s nothing but crystal clear ocean. 

He doesn’t realize that Harry is watching him – a small, private smile on his lips - until he’s about to whistle with how impressed he is and looks back.  When he’s caught, Harry looks away and Eggsy opts for “Not bad” instead, purposely staring back out at the horizon.

“You stand before such great beauty and all you are capable of is ‘not bad’?” 

Eggsy looks over his shoulder with a smirk.  “I’ve seen better.”

The noise Harry makes is half laugh, half scoff.  “Go wash up.  We’ve got a date.”

Harry turns away from him then and Eggsy takes a step out onto the balcony.  In front of him stretches miles and miles of blue, both the ocean and the sky above with only a few wisps of white dotting his field of vision.  It’s open and it’s freeing.  He takes a deep breath of the crisp air and allows himself to simply enjoy.

He doesn’t dwell on what’s behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh! I almost forgot. [Sir Duncan Whitehall](http://www.lifewithdogs.tv/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/3.19.14-Liam-Neeson-Saves-Abused-Dog2.jpg)!


	4. Day One : 2100

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't have this up yesterday. It was a little longer than planned and I was a little busy with family and friends so I didn't have it finished. Hopefully the extra length will make up for it!

“…and then he got out there, pissed as fuck, stuffy old tie round his head and actually tried to dance for about thirty seconds.  Have you ever seen this man attempt to dance?”  Whitehall slaps Harry on the chest.  “He doesn’t have any rhythm sober I’m sure, put some tequila in him and he barely manages to stay vertical!”

Duncan roars with laughter while the two younger men at the table politely attempt to hide their amusement for Harry’s sake.

Eggsy’s doing a piss poor job of it.  He leans in close, grinning from ear to ear, face with a hint of red on his cheeks from the combination of drink and laughter.  His fingers toy with Harry’s lapel.  “Marcus.  Love.  Please tell me you were wearing your glasses.”

Harry eyes him suspiciously for a moment, lips pursed.  But the younger man isn’t backing down.  He hums and leans in a little closer, running his fingers through Eggsy’s hair.  “You already know the answer.  And don’t even think about it.”  Eggsy leans back in his own seat with an exaggerated huff, smile no less potent.

Dinner has been perfect for them thus far.  Harry and Duncan started off the evening as if it hadn’t been just over four years since they last saw each other.  Duncan’s partner, Lucas, was a bit younger than Eggsy, had very dark skin, head shaved smooth, and a brilliant smile.  He was also politely soft-spoken, yet had an obvious competitiveness about him.

He and Eggsy had instantly hit it off.

Still, Harry made mental notes of every detail, every tick in his and Duncan’s behavior.  They may be off to a brilliant start but that usually just leaves more room for error later.  Sometimes quite brilliant ones.

They aren’t pushing anything yet, simply making friends.  Harry would start dropping hints of his own ‘nefarious intentions’ into their conversations tomorrow. 

He settles back in his chair and watches the other three as he sips at his drink.  Harry is paying more attention to their movements than their words.  Duncan speaks with his hands – though he had known that already.  As he had explained to Eggsy before dinner, most of his boisterous nature is for show.  Beneath the somewhat eccentric exterior is the terrifying mind of a genius, someone so good with numbers and statistics that he hasn’t been allowed in a large portion of the world’s casinos since he was twenty-five.  But if people think very little of you, think you’re too loud to be intelligent, too rowdy to be cunning, then they will underestimate.  And Harry has seen the cost of underestimating people far too often in his lifetime.  He also seems to have at least some genuine affection for Lucas, if the way he occasionally brushes the young man’s cheek and gazes at him for too long is any indication. 

Lucas is – well – Lucas is hard to read.  He doesn’t move much when he speaks and while he laughs and carries on with the rest, he never seems to have his own, unique reactions.  It is quite possibly an effect of being in the shadow of Duncan, but they won’t know for sure without more information.  

He makes another mental note to include that in his chat with Eggsy at the conclusion of their day.

Speaking of which –

Eggsy is the one telling a story on Harry – no, Marcus – now.  Every once in a while he looks over at him with a shameless smile as he goes on and on.  With a tightness in his chest and without thought, Harry reaches over and rests his hand on Eggsy’s leg like it is the most natural thing in all the world.  It’s not even until a warm hand joins his, fingers pressed between his, that he even realizes he’s done it.  He barely contains his surprise, thankful that all of the attention at the table is elsewhere for the moment.

At fifty plus years, it is not often Harry surprises himself anymore.  But Eggsy has been throwing a wrench in every aspect of his life since he made that damned phone call.  Harry remembers, then, just how attracted he had been to the young man right from the start – unacceptably so.  He had warred with himself for weeks, angry every time he had wanted to run fingers through his hair or let a casual touch linger just a heartbeat too long.  He was no fool.  He had seen the way Eggsy looked at him.  But Harry had purposely introduced himself as something larger than life, and was single handedly turning his world inside out.

To take advantage of that would have been the worst thing he’d ever done.

So in the end his logic and discipline had won out, ignoring any of his own personal desires so much he eventually no longer even acknowledged having them.

Of course, that could never stop the growing affection for Eggsy.  That part had come as naturally as breathing.

Perhaps more so.

Eggsy is laughing again, eyes narrowed with the force of his smile.  He is so warm next to Harry, at his side, beneath his touch.  And Harry doesn’t have to hold back.  He’s allowed to touch, to show his endless affection.   It hasn’t even been an entire day of that freedom and already Harry’s carefully placed defenses are crumbling like the walls of Jericho. 

_Christ._

“You are so beautiful.”  He says suddenly.

The grip at his hand disappears in an instant, as does Eggsy’s easy smile.  He stares at Harry, blinking.  Recovering quickly enough, his lips quirk in a half grin and Eggsy drops his gaze as if embarrassed.

“God, Marcus.  You are such a damned sap.”  Whitehall laughs, chiding him with a back handed slap to his chest.  

“Come now, Duncan.  Leave him be.”  Harry watches as Lucas gets Eggsy’s attention with a nudge of his elbow.  “It’s not like he’s wrong.”  The two younger men seem to have a momentary, silent conversation which makes the pink on Eggsy's cheeks flush a deeper shade of red.

Harry doesn’t realize he has started holding his thumb down hard in his own fist until much later.

“We better be careful.  Vincent and Lucas are going to run away together and then what will our saggy sacks be left with?”  Duncan is stage whispering, barely leaned over with a hand up making a show of pretending to conceal his words.  “I’m sorry, but you make a better wingman than a date.”

Forcing himself to remain pleasant, Harry tuts.  “You just have unrefined tastes.”

“Hey!”  Lucas objects loudly and Eggsy shakes his head laughing.

“Present company excluded, of course.”  He adds with a nod.

Lucas seems appeased at the very least, and Duncan apparently finds the whole thing hilarious. 

Someone else makes a quip and a sarcastic remark that slowly takes the conversation back to more neutral ground – much to Harry’s relief.  Neither he nor Eggsy make the move to touch one another again, even though he is acutely more aware of every desire to do so.

Eventually, somewhere in the hours after the meal has long since ended, the dining hall has nearly emptied, and the drinks are finally running dry, Harry relaxes the death grip he has on his own thumb.

 

 

It’s nearly midnight before they make it back to their room.

One of them had left the glass doors to the balcony open just enough that they are met with a slight chill and the sound of waves breaking against the shore below.  Somewhere nearby music is playing but it is just soft enough Harry can’t make out what it actually is.

“Are we completely sure he’s our man?  Maybe our client got it wrong.”  Eggsy speaks as he’s wandering off to the bedroom, already pulling at the buttons of his shirt.

“We are sure that is him, just not that the information Pavus has given us is valid.”  Harry fishes his tablet out of its hiding spot and settles into the corner of the couch.  “Which is why we are here.”

“You think we’ll find that journal he told us about?”  Eggsy calls from somewhere beyond the room divider.

“If he keeps it with him at all times, yes.  Though the clientele of this establishment are rather secretive and paranoid so the security is nothing to be trifled with.”

“I’ve cracked safes before and you’re better than I am.  Shouldn’t be a problem, yeah?”

Harry brings up the report Merlin had sent back after getting some key information from the safe in their own room.   “The concierge told us he would have to activate our safe should we need it, remember?”

There’s silence for a minute and then Eggsy comes into view in nothing but his pants.  “It’s. A. Safe.  I just looked at the fuckin’ thing.  It’s a radial and a handle.  That’s it.  I could crack it open without our gadgets.”

Harry takes a deep breath.  Then he crosses his legs and sets his tablet down, staring at Eggsy with a look of extreme impatience – even if he is more amused than anything else.  “Well go on then.”

“What?”

“Go on.  Open the safe.  And no using the K pen if it’s supposedly so easy.” 

At first Eggsy looks at him with amused disbelief but as soon as Harry brings his watch up as if to actually time him he disappears again, groaning and rolling his eyes.  “I haven’t been a recruit for over two years now ya’ know.”

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t always be learning something.  Time is wasting, Galahad.”

Silence is his only answer.

Since he knows exactly what is going to happen he decides to give the smart arse ten seconds.

He makes it to eight.

“Bloody hell.”

“Problems?”  Harry calls, voice dripping in false sympathy.

“It won’t fuckin move.”  The sounds coming from the bedroom are muffled for a moment before Eggsy reappears wearing a dark red robe and tying the belt with frustration.

“You don’t say!  It’s almost as if there is a primary dead lock that has to be disengaged by the resort’s computer system before the safe can even be utilized by the room’s occupants.”

Eggsy snatches a pillow from the bed, “You could have said that to begin with.”  And tosses it at Harry’s head.

The projectile is easily knocked away and Harry laughs.  “But then you would have missed an excellent learning opportunity.”  He picks up his tablet once more and scrolls through to the information he wants – the rest of the details of the safes – then hands it to Eggsy.

Sufficiently chastised and with an adorably grumpy pout, Eggsy accepts the offered device.  As he reads the schematics his face shifts from disheartened to the soft look of focus he gets when he is pouring himself into something.  He goes mostly still, features all but blank save for an intensity in his eyes that Harry finds it difficult to look away from.

“Fuck.  These people _are_ paranoid.”  He eventually says quietly.

“Indeed.”

“This is my new job, then?  Get the journal?”  Harry takes the tablet back and sets it next to himself, nodding.

“In addition to Lucas, yes.”

“Speaking of – “ He leans back against the wall, still between the two rooms, crossing his arms.  “I don’t think I get him.”  By the look in his face Harry can tell it actually bothers him that he can’t pin down the other young man.

“Oh?”  He asks, leaving the room open for explanation.

Eggsy makes a face like he’s not quite sure the best way to put it.  “He’s – he's quiet, and polite, hot as fuck and he actually seems like a genuinely nice guy so far.  So what the hell is he doing with a loud mouthed arse like Whitehall?”

“You must remember most of what you see of him is an affectation.”

Thinking again, Eggsy tugs on his bottom lip.

Harry clears his throat and looks away.

“Yeah.”  The younger man finally says.  “But it’s still got to be hard to get past.  I also thought for a sec that he could be gettin' paid but he doesn’t seem the type.”

At that Harry looks back up at him, eyebrows raised.  “Oh?  And what would that type be?”

“Well – you know.”  Eggsy scratches the back of his neck.

“I am afraid you will have to spell it out for me.”

Jaw slack and eyes wide, Eggsy visibly flounders.  He starts and stops a few times under Harry’s suddenly flat and unamused stare.

When Eggsy sighs and throws his hands in the air Harry has pity on him.  “Eggsy.  The only thing every person who has sex for money has in common is that they all have sex for money.  There is literally nothing else you can say that will be true.  Lucas may very well be receiving compensation for his time with Whitehall.  And it is something that we will need to find out since it is crucial to understanding the nature of their relationship.  Which they do have, paid or not.”

Eggsy drops his gaze.  “I…”  He starts but suddenly looks up again, seeming to remember something.  “Oi!  You wiped the floor with a whole gang of thugs for one of ‘em suggesting I was a rent boy.”

Harry waves him off.  “That was an entirely different situation.  It was their tone and choice of words, purposely meant to insult and belittle.”

“So if they’d said it a bit nicer then?”  He’s starting to smile but attempts to bite it back.

Harry smirks, straightening his shoulders.  “I think you and I both know those boys didn’t understand the definition of polite.”  He can’t help the bit of smug smile that grows.  “Even after I attempted to educate them.”

 “Correct as always.”  Eggsy laughs and gives Harry a teasing bow.  “I’ll go over the safe schematics in detail in the morning.  Try not to deprive yourself of too much sleep, Harry.”

Before he can say anything in response Eggsy is out of sight and the light in the bedroom flicks off.  Harry is left staring at the space he had just occupied.  He tries to keep his smile hidden even though no one is watching.  If you can’t convince yourself of something then you’ll never convince anyone else.

Though he’s not entirely sure who he is meant to be fooling about his feelings for Eggsy.

Harry rubs his eyes just as a quiet, “Holy Hell!  This bed is heaven.”  filters through from the other room.  He knows it is not really directed at him, but more at the world in general.  But it doesn’t stop the fondness, nor the way his heart feels lighter just for being able to experience that moment.  It’s such a tiny thing - Eggsy’s ability to find joy anywhere – but Harry wouldn’t trade his share of it for the world.

After a long time sitting there trying to gather all of his thoughts and straighten them out as best he can, Harry gives up.  He does have a job to do and needs to focus on the task at hand. 

He puts his glasses on and reaches back behind his ear to squeeze the tip. 

A tiny beep sounds.

“Leaving a message for Merlin – “  He starts but another sound interrupts him.  It’s a tiny click of something and then –

“No need, Arthur.  I’m here.” 

“Ah.  Of course you are.”  It had been a long time since he’d chided his friend for never sleeping.  Pot calling kettle black and all.  Besides, Merlin is a night owl by nature and not a morning person.  Harry’s long since been used to that.

“Something to report?”

“Information we need.  And I wanted an update on other items.”

There’s silence for a moment before Merlin says, “Fire away.” 

“Sir Whitehall’s guest is a young man named Lucas Edwards.  As we are all unfortunately aware, Whitehall tends to dominate any conversation he’s in so I don’t have much more for you than a name and the fact that they claim to have been together for about three years which I would think we should have heard about.”

As Merlin speaks Harry can hear him tapping away at his keyboard.  “Any idea where they say they met?”

“Sydney.”

“Age?”

“Not a clue.  Other than early 20’s.”

“You’re slipping, Arthur.”  Merlin’s words are light and teasing.

“You have a name and a picture, I know that’s more than enough to work your magic.”

“Of course it is.  But it’s a bit of a longer spell than just a simple wave of my wand.  We’ll run the programs overnight and get you something tomorrow.”

“That’s all I ask for.  Now for that update.”

Merlin runs down the list of knights that were active when Harry left less than 24 hours earlier that he can risk saying anything about over the line – no matter how secure he knows it is.  One by one he gives Harry the updates he’s asked for, no details of locations or mission work, but rather their status, if they’ve finished or if they will be longer than expected.  Once upon a time it wouldn’t have been an update on almost every agent, but Kingsman has been busy the last year or two.

Lancelot has already made it home, after barely 48 hours no less.  Which is not surprising in the slightest.

Before he realizes it, Merlin has gone through their whole roster and Harry is listening but focused elsewhere, flicking through his tablet again.

It’s the pictures he’s looking at again.

There’s a long stretch of silence after Merlin finishes where Harry doesn’t even realize he’s not speaking again.  An image of Eggsy takes up his screen, kneeling low making an excited face at someone who has been cut out of the picture.

Harry remembers taking that one.  He was cheering up his baby sister who had just tripped and fallen trying to dance along the sidewalk.  There hadn’t been a lot of tears.  She had been more mad at herself than upset at the scraped knee.  But Eggsy had swooped down and consoled her, told her it was okay that she fell as long as she got up and tried it again. 

He knows the smile Harry wore then is exactly the same as the one he has right now.  The smile that belongs exclusively to Eggsy.

“Harry.”  Merlin’s soft voice breaks the trance and Harry clears his throat, jumping to turn off the tablet.

“Is that all, Merlin?”

“For Kingsman yes.  For you?  Harry.”  Merlin sighs.  “You have got to get your head out of your own arse.” 

Harry doesn’t even bother to respond to that directly.   “Good night, Merlin.”  Without waiting for anything else he nearly rips the glasses from his own face and rubs the bridge of his nose.  It’s been a long day, and he’s suddenly exhausted. 

By the time he’s washed up and in his own sleeping clothes, lights all off throughout the room, Harry still hasn’t managed to clear his head. 

The sight of Eggsy asleep, moonlight poured across the soft lines of his face and shoulders, mouth slightly agape and undeniably beautiful in his serenity makes Harry realize in that moment that his head would very likely never be clear again.


	5. Day Two: 1400

 

Muscles burning, lungs screaming for oxygen, Eggsy pushes on.  Kick.  Move.  Turn your head.  Breathe.  He reaches a solid surface and curls his body immediately pushing off and darting forward, building on the burst of speed for the home stretch. 

At the other end of the pool he pops up, flicking the water from his face and breathing heavy.

“I thought you were going to take all week!”

Eggsy looks up to where Lucas is sitting on the edge, smug as you please.  At least he’s still catching his breath as well.  He hasn’t beaten him by much.  The water he’d splashed out when he pulled himself to the ledge is still swirling around.

“You cheated.”  Eggsy accuses with a grin.

“Me?  How on earth could I do that?”

“It’s the bald head!” Lucas touches the smooth skin of his scalp, amused.  “It gives you way less friction.”  Eggsy has been losing to him all morning in one spur of the moment competition after another.  It’s beginning to give him self-esteem issues, even if he is having fun.  “Best two out of three.”

Lucas drops his upper body back against the ground with a sound that is both parts laughter and groan.  “If I hand your arse to you one more time I doubt I’ll have anything left in me for the rest of the week!”

“Good!”  Careful not to make it too big, Eggsy slices a hand through the surface of the water to splash up at him.  He doesn’t want to catch any of the other men lounging around the pool - which there are plenty of.  Many of them have been silently watching the pair since they arrived, though Eggsy is far from surprised by that.

The two had been trying to outdo one another since Lucas had ran into him on Eggsy’s predawn run on the long wandering path around the island.  From races to pushups and a brief time spent in the – frankly excellent – resort gym they had managed to skip breakfast altogether and were well past a reasonable lunch hour.  Having his arse handed to him wasn’t exactly anything new.  He is best friends with Roxy after all.  But Roxy’s a Kingsman, and one of the best.  This guy…

Fucking hell.

“Is there a reason I wasn’t invited to this party?”  A familiar voice snaps Eggsy’s attention upward.  He’s still catching his breath but smiles up at Duncan while Lucas gives him a halfhearted wave from his prone position.

“You stole my dancing partner for the morning, so I borrowed yours.”  Eggsy says sweetly.  Next to him Lucas kicks the water enough to splash a tiny spray onto Eggsy’s face.

“You weren’t missing anything, Vince.  That boat is dull as hell.”  Lucas sits up then and looks down at Eggsy.  “Let the old men have at it, I say.”

Duncan slips a foot from his sandal and pinches Lucas’ arse with his toes.  “If you’d let me take you out once in your damn life and actually learn how to sail you would fucking love it.”  With a yelp Lucas shoves himself off the edge and back into the water.  Duncan, of course, roars with laughter.

“Duncan.  Really, leave them be.”  From the other direction Harry’s voice joins the conversation and Eggsy turns.  “It is their loss, after all.”

He sees his sandals first as he approaches, then soft, loose, bright white linen pants.  Harry has a pale blue shirt tucked in, only half buttoned with nothing underneath and the sleeves perfectly rolled up to his elbows.  To complete the whole damn look, he has a hand in one pocket, martini in the other and his hair has that slightly tousled wind swept look to it, the ends just beginning to give way to curls.

Eggsy forgets how to breath and is suddenly grateful for his speedo’s incredibly constricting nature.

He doesn’t realize he’s staring until Harry raises an eyebrow at him through a smile as he sips his drink.  Eggsy shakes his head, flicking a bit of water around.  Using his own upper body strength he pulls himself out of the pool, standing and running a quick hand through his hair so it’s not in his face.  Lucas and Duncan are already off in their own conversation so Eggsy is free to focus entirely on Harry for the moment. 

Which is a good thing since Harry’s focus seems to be entirely on him as well.

Eggsy closes the distance between them and slips the martini glass from Harry’s hand.  He takes a sip.  “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you look right now?”

There’s a reason Eggsy is a good knight.  He’s not just physically capable, but mentally as well.  Smart.  Observant.  He sees the way Harry’s fighting to keep his eyes on Eggsy’s and not elsewhere.  But more importantly he sees the subtle shift in the speed of his breathing. 

“I have an excellent idea.  Thank you.”  Harry eventually says, grabbing the glass back along with one of Eggsy’s hands.

“Cocky!”  He says in much the same manner Harry had on the plane.

Harry shrugs.  “Self-aware.”  He places a soft kiss to Eggsy’s knuckles.  He’s got a wide and frankly beautiful smile on his lips, bright, but meant just for him.

In that moment Eggsy has to swallow way too many emotions, suddenly unable to see the line between Marcus and Vincent and Harry and Eggsy.  He takes a deep breath and forces a smile.  “How was your morning?”  The kisses Harry keeps pressing to Eggsy’ knuckles, the way his lips form perfectly around him without breaking eye contact – it ignites a fire in his skin, each subsequent touch stoking the flames.

“Very informative.  And quite fun if I’m being honest.  You seem to have kept yourself entertained.”

“If you call being flattened in every physical contest I’ve engaged in entertaining, sure.”  Eggsy emphasizes his statement hoping Harry will understand that is more than idle chat.

If the tiny nod is anything to go by, he does.  “I see.”  The brief seriousness of that tiny message disappears with a teasing grin.  “Have you considered that he has the advantage of age, my darling?”

Eggsy’s jaw drops in genuine shock and he scoffs.  “Excuse me.  Who are you to be makin' jokes about age?”

“I have reached the point where my years leave me dignified rather than just two seconds too slow.”

Thoroughly offended, Eggsy – who is still soaking wet – wraps his free arm around Harry’s waist and tugs him close, catching him off guard.  They wind up flush with each other, Eggsy more than just a little satisfied at the audible gasp Harry lets out.  He lifts himself to the balls of his feet so he can speak right against Harry’s ear.  “Let’s see you pull off dignified looking like this.” 

He leans back down just enough so he can see the older man’s reaction.  But it backfires and his stomach does somersaults.  They are close enough to share a breath, warm and sweet between them.  Harry’s eyes are dark and so focused that Eggsy’s heart stops.

“You have absolutely no idea what I am capable of.”  His voice is dark and low, something every inch of Eggsy wants to hear more of over and over.

He has made a lot of absolute _shite_ decisions in his life, but this one skyrockets to his top five in an instant.

A shrill sound of bells snaps their attention away and both men look to see just as Duncan is pulling his phone from his pocket to answer it.

When Eggsy looks back at Harry the older man – still firmly in his arms – appears to have sobered in his intensity but is not yet breathing any easier.  “I should go shower.  Get the sea salt form my hair.” His voice is cracked and Harry is tense against him, almost as much as Eggsy.  Every movement that follows feels hard and forced compared to how natural they had been heartbeats earlier. 

Harry presses a soft kiss to his temple before stepping back.  Before he gets away Eggsy makes sure to grab the drink from his hand and downs it in one.  “Yeah.”  He gets out.  The sound is strangled.  For the briefest of moments he thinks Harry looks almost shaken but it’s gone from one thought to the next and damn him if he doesn’t actually still look like a million bucks walking away with his front half soaked through. 

He crosses the distance to the pool chair where his towel is and sits, setting his glass down at his feet.  Eggsy brings the sun warmed fabric to his face and uses the excuse of drying himself off to bury himself in it.  His chest aches and he can’t breathe.  It’s worse than earlier but has nothing to do with all the physical activity he’s been engaging in.

The physical attraction Eggsy had long since given up as not going anywhere, but he had convinced himself he was over the rest. 

Over the worst.

Obviously his heart thought differently.

He startles when he feels a warm hand pressed to his shoulders.  When he looks up Eggsy finds Lucas sitting next to him with a kind smile.  “You okay?

 _No._ _I’ve got hidden feelings for my boss that having to express out in the open is – in a sad twist of fate – actually breaking my heart._

“Oh yeah.  Just think the morning is catching up with me y’know?”

Lucas seems to accept it, for the moment.  He removes his hand and begins drying himself as well.  “I’m with you there.  Not many people can keep me on my toes like you did.”  He gives Eggsy a small smile before standing.  “Come on.  Let’s grab some food.  I’m famished.”

And Eggsy remembers why he’s going through all this hell.  Because he has a fuckin job to do.  So he packs up all his screwed up issues into the pretty little box he’s made for them over the past two years and takes a deep breath.

“That’s the best thing I have heard all day.”

Half an hour later they’ve both put their shorts back on and have wandered over to the little café area in a more private part of the island.  Eggsy’s chest still has that dull ache he’d thought he'd lost a while ago, but he is still focused on his mission.  The early afternoon sun is almost too hot on his bare chest and shoulders but the breeze coming from the water cuts through and makes it feel absolutely perfect.  Eggsy adjusts his sunglasses and leans back in his chair, idly fiddling with the straw in his water. 

“Ok Lucas.  I gotta ask.  It’s been bugging me since last night.”  Lucas mimics Eggsy’s stance across the table from him and remains silent.  “You and Duncan – “

“How are we, well, us?”

Eggsy nods an acknowledgement while shrugging and holding out his hands in silent apology. 

Thankfully, Lucas laughs.  “Don’t sweat it.  You are by far not the only person who has ever wondered that.”

“Well, that’s reassuring I guess?”

“Ha.”  For a minute he is silent, a look on his face as if he’s remembering all the details and can’t figure out where to start.  “So.  Dunc’s basically a right prick, yeah?”

Eggsy nearly chokes on his water.  “No comment.”

In response Lucas laughs again.  “It’s okay.  He does all that shit on purpose.  Well, most of it.  He is a very lewd and filthy old man at heart after all.  But if you ever manage to get the man talking about something he cares about – I mean, god, it’s probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“How – how does – you do know pretending to be a right prick isn’t somehow better than actually being one.”

Lucas frowns and bites at his lip.  “Trust me.  I know.  But there really is just so much more to him than the act he does for everyone.”  Eggsy has heard that argument before.  As a kid, a young teen.  It hits a little too close to home but he manages to hide his disgust.

“I’m going to go out on a limb and guess you were one of the lucky few who managed to see his good side early on?”

“Oh hell no. I didn’t know that part even existed for a good six months.  No.  I was still in school, for journalism, and doing an exchange down in Sydney.  I won a competition to get an interview and before I’d been there ten fucking minutes he had propositioned me.”

Eggsy looked at Lucas over the rim of his sunglasses.  “No fucking way.”

“Yup.  And I may look like one of the good guys but trust me when I say I am no saint.  He was hot, I was young and horny a good ninety percent of every day and he was filthy fucking rich.  And as it turns out, REALLY good at fucking.” 

That gets a huff of a laugh from Eggsy.  As a reason to at least start being with someone it’s kind of hard to argue with.

“What about you and Marcus?”

“Us?”  The question is a bit unexpected.

“Yeah.  You two actually seem fuckin perfect for each other but there is something … “  Lucas studies Eggsy for a moment then taps his fingers on their table.  “There’s something just a touch off.”

Eggsy tries desperately to brush it off.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  But Lucas is having none of it, looking over his own sunglasses to stare him down in silence. 

His gaze is accusing and Eggsy sighs, rubbing at his neck.  “I’ve never loved anyone like I love that man in my entire life and I’m convinced that it's more than I will ever love anyone else...”  He drops his gaze and stares down past the cliffs to the clear blue water, trying to keep his voice even.  “I know he cares about me, but I don’t – he’s not the kind of man I can spend the rest of my life with.”

“Oh man you have got it bad.”  Lucas actually sounds quite sympathetic.  “Is it his wife?  You know, Dunc’s married.  Most of the men here are.  It’s why they’re here.”

Eggsy lets go of a forced laugh.  “It’s kind of the wife thing.  Even if she does know about me.  Marcus is – Marcus is a very well spoken, respected, and traditional man to the very powerful people who sign his paychecks.  If anyone found out about us he could lose everything and I know I’m not as important as the rest of his entire life.”

“Ahh.”  He says as if he’s had a revelation.  “You aren’t used to such open displays of affection.”  Lucas sits up and smiles kindly at Eggsy.  He takes off his sunglasses and sets them to the side.  “That explains so much.”

“Oh?”  Eggsy turns to face him full on.

“Like how every time he touched you last night you flinched but then melted into it like you were starving for it.  Or just now at the pool when you turned to ash when Dunc’s cell went off and you remembered you were around other people.”

“Wow you are perceptive.”  He said, genuinely impressed.  Eggsy worries at his bottom lip.  “I guess I’m terrified I’m going to get used to all this and then when we get back to work I’ll be reminded of my actual place in his life... and it’s going to break my heart.” 

Lucas looks as if his heart is breaking _for_ Eggsy.  “Vincent.  Vince, man.”  He waves his hands then grabs Eggsy’s in both of his over the table.  “You have got to tell that man how you feel.”

_Sympathy card.  Check._

Eggsy just wishes it wasn’t such a difficult one to play.  “It’s not that easy.”

“Of course it’s not.  If it was easy you wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.  Look.  I know Duncan and Marcus are the exact opposite of the same man.  But they are both too powerful for their own good and probably, whether on purpose or not, think themselves above most people for whatever reason.  But even if they don’t know it, they are both human and if I can be up front with Duncan of all people about how I feel, you can probably be honest with the man who looks at you like you’re the only reason the stars shine at night.”

Eggsy pulls back with a look of disbelief.  “You’ve known us for a day.”

“One:  Perceptive, remember?  Two: It took all of ten minutes to know that much.  And three: a blind man could see that shit.”

In order to try and hide his blush, Eggsy grabs his drink and sips at it, looking away.  He shakes his head in silent denial.  If he continues to play this up, make it look really bad, he’ll be able to use it later if he needs to. 

Good thing he’s not even pretending. 

Except for how it still fucking hurts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes:
> 
>   1. Thank you. Than you thank you thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of your kind words. They mean the world to me and even if I don't respond to your comments, I promise I've read them a dozen times.
>   2. I will be going to see WTNV live tomorrow so I won't have a regular update. But what I DO have is a teeny tiny something that is already queued up to post while I'm out. I hope it will get you through. (I really think it will.)
>   3. A word about tags. I know where this story is going, I just don't always know what details I'm going to find when I get there. So tags will be updated as I feel needed, though sometimes a bit earlier than the chapter they will go with.
>   4. Oh. [Lucas Edwards.](http://www.homorazzi.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/michael-b-jordan-shirtless.jpg)
> 



	6. Day Two: 1420

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm out of town today, but here is teeny tiny update to hold you over.

Steam fills the air and fills his lungs, water beating on his back hot enough to scorch yet still practically ice against the heat of his skin.  Eyes opened or closed, it doesn’t matter.  All he sees is the way the sun glistens off droplets of water as they make their way down the smooth curves of muscle.  The way his skin moves, the ease with which he simply lifted himself back to the surface.  He’s known strength his whole life, it shouldn’t affect him.

But this is so different.

Harry’s physical desires have finally been set free, caught up with his heart without a second thought and now he finds it impossible to ignore either of them.  He had felt the warmth of Eggsy’s body against his own, realized what it did to him to have those green eyes so intensely focused on him and him alone that suddenly the idea of them ever being directed elsewhere brought out jealousy that he had long since forgotten he was capable of.  He wants to taste, to feel, to experience, to have those soft lips parted against his own. 

God does he want.

More than anything he wants to know.

Harry braces himself against the tile wall and wraps his hand around his length, hard and aching for release.  He wants, and as he thinks about everything he wants, he starts to move.

He wants to know what Eggsy sounds like when he’s being taken apart, if he will make small gasps of pleasure or if he would be as loud, mouthy, and filthy as he is in the rest of his life.  He wants to be allowed to trace the trails of sun kissed water droplets with more than just his eyes – with his lips and his tongue. He wants taste his skin learn how much pressure and attention it takes to make him beg for release.  He wants to learn every inch of him, to use his mouth and his fingers, his own body and his fucking _words_ to show Eggsy every pleasure he can possibly think of.

Beneath him his legs start to shake.

He thinks of his laugh, his smile, of the intensity with which Eggsy focuses on whatever he is doing.

Harry’s breath becomes harder and harder to catch, chest tight, nerves set aflame with desire and need.  Every muscle begins to tense as he falls toward the edge, brings himself closer and closer. 

Body snapping, he comes with the memory of a hard, firm form pressed against his and a single name on his lips.

As each spasm rocks though him he bites his cheek harder, holding in the soft noises until all he is left with is a long pathetic sigh. 

He is spent and yet no better off than minutes before.  If only his mind could find the same release as his body.  Harry presses his face to the tile and takes a deep breath, then turns and slumps down to the ground, knees up and head resting back against the wall.  The shower continues to pour down and around him, almost unnoticed.   

The middle of a mission is the absolute worst place to have revelations such as this one.  He can just see a hundred different ways this is going to end badly and knows there are plenty he isn’t even thinking of.  There will be something he misses, something that slips through because he can’t keep his eyes off Eggsy, because his mind is so otherwise occupied.  There’s a reason he hasn’t seen anyone in over a decade.  There has to be a certain level of vigilance, to keep himself and everyone around him safe.  And now the one who slipped through to his heart completely undetected, the man who matters most, is the one who is most at stake.

 Something akin to resolution sets over him.  Harry takes a deep breath, and makes a decision. 

He must get through the week.  That much – surely – he can manage.  Then they will return home having saved the world yet again.  Together they will add another tally mark to the edge of Eggsy’s desk and another asinine headline to Harry’s wall.  And when they're done he is going to take him out to dinner, tell him everything, and with any luck kiss him absolutely senseless. 

But now comes the matter of swallowing his guilt while they finish the next few days, Eggsy pretending to be in love with Harry... while Harry isn’t pretending in the slightest. 


	7. Day Two: 2330

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going forward, this fic will actually have a beta reader! A hell of a lot of thanks to [ LoveABitOfRough](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveABitOfRough) ([stainedglasscurtains](http://stainedglasscurtains.tumblr.com/) on tumblr) for helping me. The previously posted chapters have been edited and updated as well, though no major changes occurred.

 

Desire can be sharp.  It’s got hooks and teeth you don’t expect to be there until it’s too fucking late and it can shred you from the inside out. You may think you’ve removed the issue only to find the sharpest bits have broken off in your skin and they don’t hurt as much, just bite a whole hell of a lot deeper.

Eggsy has been hooked in and under Harry’s skin for a lot longer than the last two days.  But his touch has ripped open carefully bandaged puncture wounds and exposed them to the salty ocean air.  He’s trying very hard to ignore it all.

Harry sits at the far end of the bar in the wide open dance hall, music thumping too loud for not only his taste but for any reasonable level of conversation.  He is waiting and passing the time watching the mass of dancing bodies in the center of the floor.  Eggsy is out there somewhere and Harry is rather ashamedly trying to find him.  They had spoken briefly before making their way down here separately, both with their own goals for the evening.  Harry had told him about his and Duncan’s conversation on the boat and Eggsy had let Harry know that he seemed to have won over Lucas, though he had refused to go into much detail as to exactly how he had done it.  They were doing well, getting the right bits of information they needed to keep moving forward.  Tonight Harry hopes to actually lead Duncan into giving him something more concrete while Eggsy is determined to find a way to copy their room key.  Breaking into the room itself should prove easy enough. Though the discovery that the microchip embedded in the room key would give them access to the safe warranted an adjustment to their plans

The scotch in his hands is smooth, thick and heavy as it goes down.  He’s savoring it when someone slides into the seat next to him, tapping on the counter to get the bartender’s attention.

“Fancy seeing you here.”  He says to Duncan with a grin before taking another sip.

“Well hey there, sailor.  Come here often?”  Duncan fakes an American accent that sounds so horrendous Harry nearly sorts his drink.  “I know a lil’ place down the way might be more uh, private.”  The wink he gives him is too much.

Harry swallows quickly then lets himself laugh.  “My god.  Have you ever even been to the states?”

“Are you kidding?”  Duncan finally drops the accent.  “I love it over there.  So many loopholes and tax evasion schemes.  Marcus, you’re an investment banker in New York fucking city.  I know you know how it goes.”

“That I do.  Most certainly.”

The music around them changes, gets louder, and the crowd out on the dance floor cheers almost as loud.  Both men turn and watch as the dancing all begins anew.  Harry leans over and still nearly has to shout.  “Is this a yearly tradition?”

Duncan waves his hand in dismissal.  “Most of the week is incredibly boring for our younger guests.  So we like to indulge them from time to time.”  He picks up Harry’s glass just as he is being handed his own and nods towards one of the open archways that lead outside.

On the patio the music is still clear but far enough away they can speak at normal volumes.  “I’m surprised you don’t want to stay and watch the show.”  Harry accepts his drink back with a smile and a nod.

“I’ve got a private performance coming after.”  Duncan reaches into his jacket to pull out two cigars, handing one to Harry without a word.  “You’ll see what I mean when you get that pretty thing of yours back to your room tonight.  You’ll never question this tradition again.”

It is not often Harry has to physically stop himself from simply punching someone square in the face while he is undercover. But its quickly becoming a frequent need with this man.  He’s afraid if he continues to treat Eggsy simply as an object he may be unable to hold back.  To hide his scowl Harry busies himself with lighting his cigar with Duncan’s gold filigree lighter.  The two men stand in relative silence for several minutes, taking slow drags of sweet, almond-infused smoke and watching the dance hall, despite Duncan’s words.

Harry lets the silence stretch, patiently waiting for Duncan to begin their conversation.  The other man is hardly ever this quiet and Harry hopes he is gearing up for something important.

When he finally speaks, Harry is far from disappointed.

“Marcus.”  Duncan turns and walks further out from the building towards a railing that looks over the water.  It’s the first time since he met the man years ago that he has heard him sound or look so serious.

And all he has said is his name

They settle in with their drinks and cigars, Duncan leaning forward over the rail looking out while Harry rests back against it.

“This morning we were talking and you said something that kind of stuck with me.”

Harry smiles.  “I’m surprised you were even listening, let alone retaining anything.”

“I am always listening.”  He says rather pointedly.

Harry is immediately on alert but careful not to show it.  He does drop his smile and eyes Duncan as if studying him.  “What did I say this morning that has you suddenly so serious?”

There’s a slight pause while Duncan sips at his drink.  “You mentioned that you’re working with the conservative party, trying to get the right people in the right vacancies.”

“Of course.”  Harry shrugs.  “If I want to continue seeing increased profits as the years go on I can’t possibly allow the left to ever take power again.  It is not exactly a difficult task mind you, given the American media’s propensity for fear mongering.”

“Well, it’s not like they don’t have something real to rally them this time.”

Harry nods.  “You have a point.”

With a sigh Duncan goes quiet again, staring out at the distance.  Without looking back he continues.  “You say it’s not difficult, but I bet it’s still a hell of a lot of work.  A lot of kissing ass.  Greasing the right palms.”

“There is the unfortunate drawback that those left behind were either too moral or not powerful enough to be worth it, but yes.  That is the general idea.  And it is certainly more work than it once was.”

Duncan takes a long drag of his cigar and considers Harry.  There’s a scrutiny in his gaze that would make a lesser man feel uncomfortable.  Harry makes sure to look as bored as possible.

“What if you could buy all the seats you need?”

“Is that not what I’m already doing?”

“What you are doing is working behind the scenes, playing a game of chess where some of the opponent’s pieces are completely invisible.  Even a grand master couldn’t guarantee a win in that circumstance.”  He swirls his drink around, dropping his gaze to watch the ice spin.  “What I’m proposing is an outright purchase.  Cash money down to put your name on the back of whichever seat you want.  Figuratively, of course.”

“I would probably have wound up six feet under two years ago if I had the kind of disposable funds that would take to accomplish.”

“But you would do it if you had the money.”

“In a heartbeat.”  Harry mouths at his cigar as if lost in thought.  He adjusts his position against the rail.  “Though I am interested in how you suggest I go about finding such wealth.”

The smile that comes over Duncan’s features is devious, to say the very least.  “By working with me.  I’ve got one or two people in every country that’s worth a damn, but America is big.  I could always use another leverage point.”

“I’m listening.”

“Marcus.  To most people this world is and always has been nothing but chaos.  The economy even more so.  But if you know how to see the patterns, know how to assign a value of importance to everything that happens, you can predict what is coming next.  You can see all the possible moves.  And when you can see all the possible moves, you can input your own stimuli to make those outcomes exactly what you want them to be.”

“You are talking manipulation of the markets.”  Harry considers the other man with a skeptical glance.  “That has been done, Duncan.  People always get caught.”

He dismisses the idea with a wave of his hand.  “I’m talking about completely overhauling the markets.  New York.  Tokyo.  Hong Kong.  Euronext.  SIX Swiss.  Shake it up and squeeze it until it has to start from scratch and those who have made the right investments are left holding all of the pieces needed to rebuild.”

Harry immediately thinks about all of the people who would be left out in the cold, homeless, starving.  Unfortunately, Marcus wouldn’t give any of that a second thought.

“Seems ambitious.”

“It’s all about the numbers.”  For a moment Duncan looks almost manic.  It passes, though he’s still quite worked up.  “The patterns and the statistics, making them mean something.  It’s – bah.  That part really isn’t that important.  You just have to trust me.”

Just as shouts of excitement come from the dance hall and the music ramps up once more Harry sighs.  He turns around to face the ocean and lean onto the railing.  “I like numbers, Duncan.  I’m an investor whose poorest client is worth 3.4 billion and I am good at what I do.  Numbers are my job.”

Duncan stares at him for a moment, thoughtful.  “Are you sure?  It is really very complicated.”  As much as he is warning, Duncan sounds more excited than anything else.

Harry gives him his best, most indulgent smile.  “Try me.”

And so he does.  The music continues, the night draws on and Duncan goes into more details than Harry could have ever hoped for.  He gets animated, passionate about all of the extensive formulas he has built, the data that he can plug in and manipulate to his will and the algorithms he uses to find what is needed to get the exact outcome he desires.  Which, to Harry, is complete chaos.  But he is certain if he tries to point that out Duncan would spend another hour explaining how he is wrong.

He has no idea what time it is when the sound of laughter drifts into their conversation, coming closer each second.

Duncan stops mid-sentence and both men look over their shoulder.

“I told you they were out here.  We should have come this way first!”  Lucas saunters up with a bit of wobble in his step in a pair of skin tight white denim trousers and low necked bright yellow clingy cotton shirt.  Harry instantly loses any attention he may have had from Duncan.

It doesn’t matter in the slightest, however, since Eggsy is right on his tails.  Harry had left their room before him so he hadn’t seen what he’d picked out to wear.  Which turns out is a good thing or he would have been looking a little harder for him out on the dance floor.  In a too tight white shirt that’s unbuttoned halfway down, sleeves pushed up to his elbows without care, and a modern cut navy waist coat Eggsy trips on his own feet.  He catches himself and when he looks up, spots Harry.

The smile that overcomes him is brilliant.

“Duncan, I’m hungry.”  Lucas comes up first, grabbing his partner by the hand without bothering to acknowledge anyone else.

Duncan laughs but allows himself to be tugged forward.  “No.  You’re pissed.”

Looking confused, Lucas frowns.  “Why can’t I be both?”

They make stupid faces at each other before Duncan eventually turns to Harry, still surprisingly serious.  “Lunch tomorrow.  We’ll pick back up where we left off.”

With a knowing smile, Harry simply nods.

As the pair wanders off, Lucas nearly hanging off the older man, Eggsy makes his way over to Harry with his own amused grin.

Harry looks down at him and reaches out when he comes close enough, drawing his hands slowly up Eggsy’s forearms, slipping his fingers just beneath where the cuffs rest.  “What have I told you about the way you treat your clothes?”  He says, still unable to stop smiling.

“Many many things that I am sure to remember when I’m sober.”  Eggsy winks with all of his usual teasing attitude.  He’s not drunk in the slightest, and Harry knows it.  Both of them have a supply of ‘K-13’, the supplement Kingsman uses to counteract any effects of alcohol.  It makes fooling the marks a hell of a lot easier.  “’Sides.  It makes me look good.”  He’s still slightly swaying to the music, hips and shoulders moving in small, rolling movements.

Harry licks his lips.

“There’s not much that doesn’t, darling.”  He brings a hand up to Eggsy’s neck and runs his thumb along the younger man’s jaw.  They are alone for the moment, but that is never guaranteed.

One can never be too careful.

Eggsy tilts his head just so.  He lets out a soft sigh before guiding them both around so that he can sit back against the rail and pull Harry to him.  Harry is careful not to get so close their hips come into contact – since he knows without a doubt he’s not getting out of this anything less than thoroughly and completely aroused.

He slips his hand a little further up, into Eggsy’s hair, cradling his head and guides it further back so he can press a kiss to his throat.  “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Beneath his lips, Harry can feel Eggsy’s small hum.  “Hm.  No.”  He starts playing with the buttons on Harry’s shirt and the barest touch of his fingers against Harry’s skin is both fire and electricity.   “I’m surprised he can put himself in those pants, let alone anything else.” Eggsy is speaking quietly, just loud enough for Harry to hear.

He is also starting to breathe rather heavily.

“You’re one to talk.”  Harry teases.

Eggsy nudges him with his nose so that Harry has to move back just an inch and then he feels warm breath and lips against his own neck.  “That man had only a condom and a tiny packet of lube on his person, and I don’t know how he fit that much.  If he’s got a key on him it’s in his shoe or up his arse.”  

Immediately Harry pulls back to look Eggsy in the eyes.  “Had?”

There’s a quiet moment where Eggsy looks confused, but it passes as a cocky grin takes over.  “Yes.  Had.  As in he’s gone now so I don’t know for sure if it’s there any more. Had. You…” He drags blunt nails along Harry’s collar and around to the back of his neck, making his head swim and eyes flutter closed.  “…are jealous.”

Harry clears his throat, forcing himself to open his eyes again.  “I most certainly am not.”

“Aw.  Don’t worry, love.  He’s way too young for me.”  He looks up, eyes following the path of his own hands as they run through Harry’s greying hair.  Then he leans in to place a kiss to the deep lines at the corners of his eyes.  “I like my men with plenty of experience, after all.”

“Ha. Ha.”  Harry kisses Eggsy’s nose.  “You know what my experience gets me?  Results. My objective was wildly successful.”  And ok, he’s boasting a little after that remark.

“Oh?”

“The journal exists.  While not explicitly mentioned, he came close enough.  Also, rather alarmingly, our source was incorrect about one thing.”  Harry returns his attention to the long, smooth lines of Eggsy’s neck, going so far as to flutter kisses against the dip above his clavicle.

There’s a slight hitch in Eggsy’s breath, a high pitched gasp that causes Harry to have to suppress a moan.  “And what was that?”

“Whitehall has absolutely zero plans to go through with everything on a set date.  He’s waiting on a few key factors to fall into place before acting.  Soon, very soon, but not now.”  With every subsequent touch Harry’s body heats further, Eggsy burning him from the inside out.  Eggsy tugs at Harry’s shirt until it comes untucked and his fingers slip beneath the fabric, along the lines of toned muscle.  It’s a flutter of a touch and sends waves of want straight through Harry’s core.

For his part Eggsy sounds just as wrecked as Harry feels. Harry tugs lightly at his hair, running small circles with his thumb at his hip.  “Well that’s just – that’s – fuck, Harry.”  Before Harry can react to him saying his real name, soft and beautiful on his lips, Eggsy slips back just enough he almost loses his balance.  On reflex Harry wraps his arm around his waist and pulls him forward so they are chest to chest, bodies flush, both men hard and pressed against one another.  He can feel Eggsy’s erection, trapped in the tight denim of his jeans.

They stand, wrapped together, both unable to catch their breath and close enough their noses are brushing.

Neither moves.

“I need…”  Eggsy’s eyes are wide and Harry can’t pin down one emotion over the other - shock, lust, fear.   “I need to uh, I need to go and nick some things from the staff.”

Harry closes his eyes and nods.  When he tries to relax, to pull away, Eggsy doesn’t let go.  “You should get that done while the party is still going.”  At Harry’s words Eggsy does slip away, slow, his hands lingering seemingly as long as possible.  With his lips pressed tightly together, he nods, taking a shaky breath.

“I’ll.  I’ll just…”  Eggsy doesn’t even finish his thought, just points then turns and starts to walk away.   

As soon as he’s out of sight, Harry collapses back against the rail, catching his breath and putting himself back together.

The thing is, there’s no one else out there to have put on a show for.

There hasn’t been anyone else out there for over an hour.  Even when it had just been Duncan and himself not a single soul had wandered their way.  There also was absolutely no reason they couldn’t have had that conversation just standing there, or hell, even in their room, well apart from one another.

Harry drags his hand down his face.

“Fuck.”


	8. Day Three: 0715

Dawn creeps up on Eggsy without permission.  Which in his opinion is fuckin’ rude.  With a groan and a curse he rolls over and snatches the blankets back up to his chin.  The heaviness of sleep clings to his chest and his limbs, and for a few lingering minutes he exists in the limbo between sleep and wakefulness, where his dreams have vanished and the worries of the day have yet to surface.

The sun rises on the other side of the island so he blinks awake to a dull glow of morning and stretches cat-like over the bed.

Before any other thoughts invade his peace he is startled to notice Harry’s side of the bed has been completely untouched.

At which point the previous evening comes back in such a rush that he groans again, burying his face in his pillow.  He had delivered his report – as planned – but everything else?  The touches and the kisses against his skin, the way he felt as if his body was being fucking worshiped?  It had all gone to his head.

It had also, rather importantly, not been part of the plan.

Harry had smelled so sweet, the lingering scent of cigar smoke and scotch mingled with the clean smell of ocean air.  Eggsy had wanted to commit it all to memory but it had all been too much to focus.  Harry had been at once gentle and the perfect amount of firm with a strong hold in Eggsy’s hair while his lips were silk against his skin.

Eggsy is so fucked.

Except, he’s not.

Or…

He could be.

Feeling like a massive idiot, Eggsy rolls over and smacks himself in the forehead.

He had been the one to stop.  He had been the one to freeze up in surprise not at his own reaction – that had been kind of expected – but his lack of control.

Eggsy had been the one to run away.

But what if he hadn’t?

If he were at home in that moment he would already be on the way to Roxy’s, to curl up next to her and tell her everything.  Maybe whine a little.  God he misses that woman.  She would get onto him for being so dense, tease him for being emotionally stunted (even though she was fully aware of the truth and had supported him through every bit of it) and then chastise him for lettering her breakfast go cold.

He is, however, not at home.

Unfortunately, this is going to have to be worked out on his own.  Which he is fully capable of, of course.  Completely.

Maybe if he keeps telling himself that he’ll believe it.

What he does believe is his memories – memories so vivid he can close his eyes and see every detail again.  He can see the way Harry had looked at him, feel the way he had touched him.  Nothing had felt forced or artificial.  In fact, Harry’s touch and the subsequent way he had fallen apart beneath it had felt like the most natural thing in the universe.  Which leads him to the conclusion that if he hadn’t run away like a coward Harry could have very likely still been wrapped around him, naked and just as grumpy that it’s morning.

It wasn't love, but he could do this.  No strings attached, just sex. If that's what Harry wants, Eggsy would damn well give it to him. Some of Harry is better than nothing at all and since he knows he’s never going to get the part he really wants, he will take what he can bloody get.

Eggsy is fully aware that the conclusion he is slowly coming to is a very poor one.  He has come nowhere near dealing with all of his issues with the feelings he has for Harry.  But there’s only so much a man can resist.

He tries to think of what Roxy would say.

She would tell him to go for it.

(She would _never_ tell him to go for it.)

Interrupting his thoughts is the light chirp of his text message alert.

           -L. : Got a hangover the size of an elephant.  Coffee?

Eggsy taps out a quick response asking for fifteen minutes.  But as soon as he hits send and rolls over, putting pressure on his aching erection, hard from all the memories of the previous evening, he sends another.

           -Make it twenty.

 

 

Fifteen minutes later he’s a little more relaxed, fresh from the shower, and tugging his shirt over his head as he finally leaves the bedroom.  He stops with his shirt pulled halfway down when he spots Harry, fast asleep on the fucking couch and still in his clothes from the night before.  There is a chance he fell asleep working and settled in throughout the night.

But Eggsy had come in extremely late and Harry hadn’t been here then.  So he has no idea what time the man actually made it back.  Whatever time it had been, it had been too damn late to be working.

No.  What is much more likely is that Harry Hart had recognized the pure panic in Eggsy and decided to do the gentlemanly thing and keep him from having to experience that again, especially in such a vulnerable place as his bed.

With light steps Eggsy goes back and grabs the blanket from the bed and then toes his way to Harry’s side.  He is desperately ignoring the lurch in his chest and how, despite how Harry looks with the top of his shirt fallen open and hair perfectly tussled, Eggsy’s physical desires are the furthest thing from his mind.  Once the blanket is in place he leans low, brushes the hair from his face, and presses the lightest flutter of a kiss to the corner of Harry’s mouth.

Much to Eggsy’s immense relief, Harry doesn’t even stir.

Before he can do anything infinitely more stupid, Eggsy makes his escape.

 

 

After coffee and with a much clearer head, Eggsy sets his many, many, personal problems aside and gets to work.

In his pocket is a copy of an office key and a single lock box key.  The tiny, pocket sized duplicator they have only has enough materials for two copies and fuck it all if he hadn’t needed three.  At least he is good with picks.

After snooping around the previous evening Eggsy had discovered that the keys the cleaning staff uses are – not surprisingly – microchip free.  The only spares are locked in a safety deposit box that requires two keys to open in an office near the front desk.

Which is always locked.

And always has someone at the small desk outside.

So a key to the office for a quick entry and one half of the lockbox keys.  Eggsy only has to pick one lock.

Simple enough.

There is one good thing about the paranoid nature of the resort’s clientele (even when they aren’t holding retreats for secret gay lovers).  Nowhere on the premises has Eggsy spotted a single camera.  Not at the entrance, not in the halls.  Even when he had ducked in and taken a private tour of the service areas – nothing.

No recordings.

No evidence anyone has ever been there.  Plausible deniability.

Which is great for him in that he won’t have to worry about hacking anything or sneaking around view fields.  It is also absolute shite for him since he can’t just hack a system so it doesn’t know he’s there.  Real live people can be a lot harder to fool than a computer.

“You can’t be seriously considering this.”

Merlin’s voice almost startles him and Eggsy frowns.  He’s sitting in a plush lounge chair just off the lobby in the warmth of the midday sun with a perfect view of his target.  There is a book in his hand as a ruse for actually needing his glasses.  Merlin has already chided him for not wearing them enough.

“I don’t have much fuckin’ choice, yeah?”

“Breaking into something in the middle of the day is the exact opposite of a good idea.”

Eggsy is careful to speak quietly, lips barely moving.  “I’ve been stealing shit since I was twelve.  If a place is locked up and empty at night, you break in and get what you need while no one is there to catch you.  When a place is occupied and guarded twenty-four seven, you find a way to make a distraction when it would cause the least suspicion.”

“And what kind of distraction do you have planned.”

He makes a face even though Merlin can’t see it.  “I’m still workin’ on that bit.”

“I see.”  Merlin says, rather accusingly if you ask Eggsy.  “You have your knock out drops.”

Eggsy immediately attempts to dismiss the idea.  “Not happening.”

“It’s ten minutes of harmless unconsciousness per drop.  There are half a dozen people I can see who you could inconvenience for a few minutes in order to get what we need.”

There are a dozen reasons Eggsy despises that idea, even if it is the best – and only – one they’ve got so far.  Ten minutes would be cutting it close but it would be doable.  But the problem is that he’s only ever used them on marks or in a seriously life or death situation where a civvie was more likely to get out alive if they were unconscious for a bit.  He has never used them on an innocent bystander for his own advantage, and he’s not about to start now.

“I’ll come up with something else.”

“Use the drops, Galahad.  It is – “

He doesn’t hear the rest.  Eggsy snaps his book shut and pulls the glasses from his face, hooking them on the collar of his shirt so Merlin will still have an active feed but Eggsy doesn’t have to listen.

He’s going to hear about that later.  With loud, angry noises from Merlin and no doubt a fair amount of disappointment from Arthur.

Fuck ‘em.

He’ll find a way.

Frustrated, but all the more determined for it, Eggsy makes another careful sweep of the area.  There are a few people milling around at the front desk who look like they have just arrived, several young men gathered in the center of the lobby who are chatting and appear to be waiting on something.  Just off the lobby is the lounge where a couple seem to have gotten a bit of an early start on their evening drink.  The staff seems attentive enough to the guests, two sharply dressed clerks behind the front desk and one at the smaller desk in front of the room he needs.

He’s doing another visual scan along the walls and ceiling for anything that could remotely be considered a camera when he realizes something else.

There are also no fire extinguishers.

None tucked into corners, no obvious sprinkler systems anywhere in his visible area.  Nothing.  Though he is sure there are some suppression points in the bar area, that’s far enough away it won’t affect him.

Eggsy stands with a grin then heads back towards his room.  Once he’s made it to the hallway he grabs his glasses and puts them back on, talking as if nothing had happened.

“Merlin!  How are ya?  Been havin’ a good day?”

He’s met with only silence from the other end.

“Aw come on bruv, don’t be like that.  I’ve got good news.”

Merlin sounds so done.  “One of these days you or Arthur is going to cut me off like that and I really won’t be here when you get back.”  Eggsy, at first, is surprised to hear that Harry does the same thing – obviously often enough to bother Merlin.  But once he really thinks about it he realizes it isn’t that surprising in the slightest.

Harry Hart can be a stubborn arse.

“Did you pack those clear, sticky transmitter hack-y things.”

The long suffering sigh he hears in answer makes him grin.  “The transparent short range piggyback relay?  Of course.  Why –“  Merlin goes silent for a moment and Eggsy can picture him tapping away at his console as he shuts the door to his room.  “What are you planning?”

“Some fireworks.”  He replies with cocky smirk.

 

 

The group that had been waiting in the lobby is thankfully still there.  Even better, there are more of them.   Good.  Mob mentality works great for distractions.

Eggsy leans against the front desk, chatting up the cute clerk with a shy little smile and adorable short black bob.   He’s already palmed the device just under the lip of the counter and is waiting for Merlin to tell him it’s in a good location.  He’d had to make an educated guess as to where the computer tower would be and crossed his fingers he was right the first time.  The relay used their glasses to transmit all the way back to headquarters and could only grab onto a wireless signal for a radius of about a meter.

“I’m in, Galahad.  I’m putting in a code that will begin to overclock their CPU. Their temp gages aren’t hard wired so I can shut those out too, so no fail safes…”. Merlin has that tone as if he’s trying to contain his excitement at being able to fuck with other people’s computers.  He’s not hiding it very well.   “Next time she uses the keyboard it will trigger and you’ll have about five minutes before your show starts. “

“You are so sweet.  Now, I just have one last favor to ask, Camille.”  She gives him another smile and Eggsy continues.  “I am dying to get something for Mr. West that I just can’t find anywhere else.  You know, for him to remember our time here together.  I’m going to the main island tomorrow and I just, well, I need a few names of good places to look.”

“Oh! I know jus’ what you need.”  She starts typing on her computer to bring up specific names and addresses for him and a minute later he’s wandering away with a list and timer counting down in his glasses.

The chaos begins with thirty seconds still left on the clock.

“Hm.  The computer must have been older than I thought.”  Merlin comments.

Eggsy huffs.  “Ya’ think?”

The shouts of confusion come first, followed by louder sounds of electrical arcs and he whips his head around the corner to make sure no one was caught in that.  He was trying very hard to avoid anyone else being caught in this after all.  Luckily, Camille had jumped back just in time to watch the smoke start rising from her computer.

“Um, Merlin?”

Another computer behind the desk pops and begins to smoke.  “I see it.”

Just as he’d hoped, the young man that had been sitting at the desk in front of his target bolts over to the others to see what’s going on. Eggsy moves before he can properly chastise Merlin for going way fucking overboard.

He keeps a look out while unlocking the door behind his back.  It’s not really necessary as every single person around him is flocking to the scene.

Inside the office, with the door shut, it’s almost eerily silent.  The spare keys, which he had watched the clerks take out for him the previous evening after he had drunkenly ‘lost’ his, are kept in a lockbox just inside the door.  “Merlin, I can’t hear anything.”  He warns.  His heart starts to beat harder at the fact that he’s essentially in the dark as to what the status is outside.  “You still in the system?”

The first key turns half way and he sticks his pins into the other lock and gets to work.

“Yes.  There were three systems running off a single server and they all caught on.  I’m trying to back out the virus from the only one not currently on fire.”

Eggsy bites his lips and listens for the tiny click of a tumbler falling into place.  “Overkill.  Ever heard of it?”

“Focus on your own bloody job.”

He laughs quietly and does as he’s told, barely containing an excited shout when the last click sounds and the first key finishes turning the rest of the way.

“Fuckin’ A.”

The tray of keys slides out, each row three across and most of them missing two keys each.

“You only need to scan the key, Galahad. Get a copy of the radio frequency coming off of it and when you put it back no one will know.”

“Yeah yeah.  I know how this works.”  Eggsy finds the one with Whitehall’s room number on the bow and snatches it while grabbing the small card in his back pocket.  He presses the two together, snaps the corner off the edge of the card and waits for the tiny little green glow around the edge to indicate it’s been activated.

The second it’s lit up he shoves the keys back in the box, slams the door shut and goes to make his escape.

The sound is still hard to catch from the other side, even when he presses his ear right against the door.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have much of a choice.

He pokes his head out of the door just in time to see someone running by with a fire extinguisher.  Everyone is still focused on the - honestly not that very impressive - fires behind the front desk.

Not a single person looks his way when he slips out and locks the door behind him.

Feeling rather cocky, which is usual when he pulls something off, Eggsy turns and starts to make his way the opposite direction of the chaos.

“Well that’s quite an interesting sight.”

Rounding the corner Eggsy comes face to face with Harry, who is looking past him into the chaos of the lobby, barely containing his grin.

“What?  That?”  He doesn’t even look back over his shoulders.  “They were probably just trying to burn too many disks at once.”  With a wink, he continues.  “Someone should really have taught them better.”

Ignoring the amused and rather fond smile from Harry, Eggsy steps around him and swaggers off still grinning like an absolute fool.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously? Go shower [Stainedglasscurtains](http://stainedglasscurtains.tumblr.com/) with all of your love and affection because she is the greatest.


	9. Day Three: 1245

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of my eternal gratitude to [StainedGlassCurtains](http://stainedglasscurtains.tumblr.com/). At this point I don't know what I would do without her help.

“Merlin.”

Harry turns to watch Eggsy walk away, not even bothering to hide his smile.  He sighs and leans his shoulder against the wall with his hands in his pockets to watch the chaos begin to dissipate.  Patrons are wandering off to more interesting endeavors now that the flames are gone and the staff is doing a valiant effort at a quick clean up.

“Yes, Arthur?”

“Did you have a hand in this?”  He asks as neutrally as possible.

“A hand in what, Arthur?”

Behind the front desk, off to the side and out of view of most of the room a young woman is being rather seriously yelled at.  There are tears streaming down her face.

“It seems someone may lose their job over whatever transpired here.  See that the young woman is taken care of, understood?”

Merlin sighs, but it’s more fond than anything else.  “You and Galahad.  Of course, Arthur.”

There’s no chance for Harry to ask him what he means before he hears the soft sound of the incoming line disconnecting.  He knows Merlin would still hear him but decides not to bother him.

The pride he feels for what Eggsy appears to have pulled off is no new feeling.  The young man works with practiced ease, making the work appear as simple as if he’d been a Kingsman for much longer than just a few short years.

He tries very hard to leave his thoughts at fond – rather than dwell on his more serious feelings – as he begins to walk towards his original destination.

Despite his attempts, his thoughts wander back to the morning.  The sun had already begun to rise when he had finally wandered back to their room.  It was only the first few rays of light, the subtle shift in color from a black field of stars to deep hues of purple and blue.  There had been no shadows yet, and no reason for him to still be up.  When he did make it to their room he didn’t even make it past the room divider.  Eggsy had been fast asleep, cuddling his pillow and so damned peaceful.  Harry may have been exhausted and running on empty, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t recognize the fact that getting in that bed right then would have been a terrible idea.  Not only did he not trust himself in his sleep in the slightest, but he refused to be the cause of such panic in Eggsy’s eyes over something Harry had done ever again.

If he could possibly help it.

So it was the couch for him – which was comfortable enough – where he’d passed out within minutes and dreamed about soft words shared between softer kisses.

When he’d woken up late-morning wrapped in a blanket he’d tried not to wonder how much of it had been a dream.

But that was this morning.  

And it never does well to dwell.   

Harry takes the winding steps down to the docks where Duncan had asked him to meet after he’d apologized for missing lunch.

When the small row of boats comes into view he finds Duncan’s easily, spotting him and Lucas lounging around on the deck while it’s still moored.  They’re laying at the bow of the boat.  Lucas is shirtless and on his stomach, propped up on his elbows with an e-reader in his hands while Duncan lays on his side and is obviously attempting to distract the younger man from whatever he’s focused on.  The words are indistinguishable but he can hear their voices drifting up through the air, their laughter.

Lucas spots him first, waving at him with a large smile.  His attention draws that of Duncan who gives him a nod as well before standing and pulling a laughing Lucas with him.  As Harry approaches the two kiss deeply, unashamed and not holding back.

Thankfully, by the time he makes it to them they’ve at least parted enough there’s sunlight between them.  “Marcus!  We missed you and Vincent at lunch!”  Lucas playfully shoves Duncan – who is poking at his side - away and steps forward, glancing towards the path that leads up the cliff. Duncan follows him, never quite letting the young man leave his touch.

“I must apologize profusely.  I fear we remained out far past anything that could be considered a decent hour and our morning suffered for it.”

Lucas ducks his head to hide a smile that makes him look like he knows more than he should.

“And where is the young man now?  Not still sleeping I hope.” Duncan asks.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he had gone back to bed.  He looked pretty awful at breakfast.”  Lucas offers.

Harry doesn’t bother hiding his look of concern and shakes his head.  “I’m not sure where he is this afternoon, Lucas.  But I don’t think he returned to bed.”

It takes a moment for the two to finally, fully, part, but eventually Lucas begins gathering his things and rolls them up in a towel.  “If you two are going out again I’ll send him a text.  See if he’s busy or conked out.  Maybe he’s bored.”

Duncan smirks.  “I’m sure the two of you could find plenty to keep you occupied.”  He rolls his eyes and gives a lingering kiss to Duncan before Lucas hops from the deck to the dock and starts heading out.  After watching the young man until he’s halfway up the steps, Duncan’s smile finally fades into something more serious and he gestures Harry over.

“Come aboard, Marcus.  Let’s talk shop.”

Harry nods with a smile and steps to the boat, immediately moving to help him prepare to disembark.

They still have a lot to talk about.

 

 

 

“We have a situation.”

Harry finds Eggsy lounging by one of the smaller pools high at the far end of the island with a book in hand – well, laying open across his chest anyway.  At the small table next to him is a plate of grapes, glass of wine, and his glasses propped open, facing back towards another part of the resort.  Bare chested and completely relaxed, he is the epitome of Greek leisure. Harry licks his lips.  When he checks the direction the glasses are facing he notes that from where Eggsy has laid them he has a decent view of the entrance to the dining hall.

Eggsy blinks up at Harry, worry obvious in his features for a beat before he carefully schools it into a more neutral expression.  In order to sooth his concerns Harry sits on the edge of the lounge chair and grabs the younger man’s glasses, setting them carefully on his face.  There are others around the pool, so he keeps up the small gestures, but this is business.

“You should really remember to wear your glasses when you’re reading.”  He gives him a smile and, thankfully, Eggsy seems to relax.

“Did it look like I was reading?”  He teases as he sits up.  Eggsy immediately reaches to run his fingers through Harry’s wind swept hair which is such an amazingly good sign, Harry almost forgets why he is there.  “You said we have a problem?”

“Yes.”  Harry’s smile is wide and genuine for the first time that day, despite his news.  “More crucial information was left out of our initial reports, though it is highly likely Pavus was unaware of it.”

“I’m listenin’.”  Eggsy shifts closer and Harry gets a strong scent of coconut.

He closes his eyes and shakes his head before continuing.  “This afternoon I expressed my doubts about the likelihood of success for Duncan’s plans.”

“Oh, I bet he fuckin’ loved that.”

“Actually he took it as an opportunity to boast, which isn’t surprising in the slightest.”

“’Bout what?”  Eggsy isn’t looking Harry in the eye anymore but rather following his own fingers as they fiddle with the unbuttoned collar of Harry’s shirt.

Desperate to not repeat the previous evening – or at the very least to not start something there isn’t enough time to finish (God, what is he thinking) – Harry grabs Eggsy’s wandering hands in his and stills them against his chest.

“About his software.”

Eggy’s eyes dart up to meet him in surprise.  “That wasn’t in the job description.”

“No.  It wasn’t.  But apparently he realized a few years past that if he didn’t want to sit and watch stock markets and financial news every day of his life he would need to create something to gather his data in one common location.”

“So this whole thing is pointless?  There never was – “

Harry presses a finger to Eggsy’s lips.  “I never said that.  Our goal is still the same.  Now we just know there are other parts to the equation.  The software gathers the information.  Whitehall uses that to formulate his patterns and predictions by hand.  We have to have both to stop him.”

“Why can’t we just use the journal?”

He sighs.  “Because you’ll never understand the answer if you don’t understand the question.”

Eggsy narrows his eyes and looks as if he’s contemplating what Harry said before he suddenly smiles.  “Douglas Adams?”

With his own smile, Harry nods.

“I’ll be sure to bring my towel.”  Eggsy  says with a wink and grabs the one sitting next to him.  Harry barely contains his laugh when he gets a face full of soft terry cloth.

“Just be sure not to panic.”

In an instant Eggsy looks serious, still with a grin on his face but looking at Harry so intensely that Harry freezes.

“I won’t.”  Eggsy grabs Harry’s hands this time and brings them up to place a gentle kiss on his knuckles without breaking eye contact.  “Not again.  Promise.”

A million and one thoughts flash through Harry’s mind, sparked and ignited by the lightest brush of Eggsy’s lips.  He studies the younger man’s gaze.

“Quite.”  He lets out at the end of a long exhale.

“So what do we do now?”

Harry clears his throat.  “Niviane was at the comm – “

“I know.  She’s supposed to send an encrypted text when Whitehall made it to dinner so I could finally move on their safe.”

“ – so I’ve sent her to retrieve Merlin.”  He continues as if Eggsy hadn’t interrupted him.  “I need you to brief him as soon as he gets back.  Tell him we need that software as soon as possible and to watch my feed if he questions why.  Then you need to join us for dinner.”

“You’re havin’ dinner with them again?”

“I overslept and missed lunch, so he invited me to make it up to him at dinner.  It would be terribly rude to stand him up twice in one day.”

“What about the journal?”

“Software first.  Without that the journal is useless to us.  And if we take the journal and Whitehall puts his systems in lock down he will still have access to data we do not.  Then he can just re-do everything he’s already worked out while we’re left in the dark.”

“Right.  Understood…. I think.”

“Good.”

Harry moves to stand but Eggsy stills him and leans in close.  Harry’s heart skips when Eggsy moves as if to give him a kiss high on the neck.  “You’re always spoiling my fun, you know that?”

And because Harry is fully capable of being a complete arse – and because he apparently isn’t thinking straight – he stands and steps out of Eggsy’s reach before saying quite pointedly, “Turnabout is fair play after all, darling.”

Harry only catches the briefest glance of Eggsy’s startled, slack-jawed smile before he blows him a kiss then turns to walk away.

 

 

Mission or no mission, Harry really needs this week to be over as soon as possible.  He’s not sure how much more of it he can take.

He has just arrived to dinner, on time thank you, and is sitting down with the other two when Lucas frowns.  “I thought for sure Vincent would be with you by tonight?”

Harry looks at the empty chair beside him.  “I sent him a message asking him to be here.  But to be honest, I haven’t seen him all day and he never responded.  Did you not get in touch with him?”

Lucas actually starts to look worried.  “No. The last time I saw him was breakfast, is he alright?”

“Of course I am.”  From behind him Eggsy’s voice comes, clear and confident enough Harry doesn’t have to look to picture his smirk.  “I must apologize, gentlemen.  I’ve been out shopping all day and I completely lost track of time.”  Instead of taking his seat, Eggsy drapes himself over Harry’s shoulders and presses a firm kiss to his cheek.  “I also must beg your forgiveness as I steal Marcus here away.”  He’s still got his arms wrapped around Harry’s shoulders but is looking at the other two men.

“I bet he got you a gift, Marcus.  And he can’t wait to show it off.”  Duncan winks at Eggsy and from their position he can not only feel the tension shoot through Eggsy’s body, but can also clearly hear him swallow before he speaks.

“That I might have.” To anyone else he sounds perfectly calm, but Harry can hear the notes of distaste.  He reaches up and squeezes Eggsy’s arm and can feel some of his nerves melt away.

“Don’t let us stop you.”  Duncan has that look in his eyes again like he wants to devour Eggsy and Harry can’t help the reflex to hold on just a little tighter.

As Harry stands, Eggsy finally lets go – much to his disappointment.

“You owe me another re-match tomorrow, Lucas. Yeah?”  Eggsy says while Harry pushes his chair back in.

“If you still think you’ve got a chance, bring it.”

They make their proper apologies and good-byes and leave, hand in hand, as close as they possibly can be without tripping over each other.

“What was that all about?”  Harry finally asks once they are outside their own door.

Eggsy startles Harry by turning so that he is between Harry and the door while he still has a hand on the key.  It has the unfortunate result of making it so that Harry practically has his arm around the younger man’s middle.

Or fortunate.  But that depends entirely on how you look at it.

“Well, Merlin thought it would be a good idea for us not to be around the genius megalomaniac just in case everything goes tits up while attempting to steal said megalomaniacs proprietary, world collapsing software.”

Harry sees the way Eggsy’s eyes flicker down to his lips once, then twice, as he speaks.  His breath catches when Eggsy reaches up and slowly slides his hands over his shoulders.

He swallows.  “Was there anything else?”

“Yeah…”  Eggsy doesn’t look shy, but he sure as hell starts to blush.  He bites his bottom lip then sighs as if steeling himself for something.  “I been thinkin’…”

Without conscious thought Harry crowds closer until they are almost pressed against each other, barely any air between them.

“That’s a dangerous pastime.”  He says with a dark tone.  His entire body is beginning to spark with anticipation, stronger than ever before.

“You’re fuckin’ telling me.”  They both smile, laugh for the briefest of moments, then Eggsy swallows and pushes forward.  “’Bout that whole, no kissin’ on the mouth thing?”

He can feel his own pulse quicken, eyelids fluttering at the sensation of fingers being slowly drawn through his hair.  Eggsy is closer now, almost close enough to taste.

“Yes?”

It’s barely a whisper.

“Harry.”

Eggsy says his name with such confidence as he lifts up and their lips barely brush.

“Sod it.”

Before Eggsy even finishes his short declaration Harry is kissing him.  At first it’s a firm and closed mouth press of lips, but that barely lasts the span of a heartbeat before Eggsy parts his lips, gives himself up and Harry can do nothing but take.  Eggsy clings to him with his hands still in Harry’s hair as Harry licks into his mouth with a slight tease of his tongue, gentle despite the intensity of the moment.

He tastes of sweet white wine and Harry is gone.

They break apart to catch their breath, both men’s chests heaving, neither willing to look anywhere but right at and into each other.

Harry fumbles with the key and eventually manages to get the door open even with Eggsy teasing him with feinted kisses, lips brushing but never completing the contact.

The second they’re on the other side of the door Harry has him pushed back against it, fingers behind his neck, cradling his head while they continue their dance of almost kisses.  Eggsy tugs Harry’s shirt out of his pants and drags his fingers up along the ridges of Harry’s spine, making his body sing.

He kisses him again, over and over and Eggsy drinks them up, pulls him in deeper until Harry’s head is swimming with lust.

When he presses his knee forward he revels in how easily Eggsy parts his legs for him, lets him in and whines into their kiss when Harry rolls his hips hard.

“Oh, _fuck me_.”  Eggsy barely leaves the kiss long enough to make the words audible.

But Harry hears them loud and clear.

“Manners.” He teasingly chides with a smile, dragging his lips along Eggsy’s jaw as he laughs openly beneath Harry’s touch.  The laugh turns to a sharp gasp when he grazes his teeth along the tendon just below Eggsy’s ear.

This time, Harry doesn’t have to suppress his own groan.

His skin burns with how much he wants and Eggsy’s hands never stop moving everywhere, wherever he wants to touch.  Harry nips at his ear and speaks in a low, rough voice.

“Now ask me politely...”

 

 

 


	10. Day Three: 2030

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The responses I have gotten to this fic are all nothing short of amazing.  
> I love each and every one of you and since it's my birthday, and I couldn't ask for anything more than the kind words you've all already given me, I'm here to give YOU a birthday present.  
> I hope you wanted 4 thousand words of porn.  
> Because that's what's under the wrapper.

“Now ask me politely…”

Eggsy does not whine.

Even if it’s a very near thing.

What he does do is take a moment to remember how to breathe before he reaches down to Harry’s arse and gives it a tight squeeze, pulling him even harder forward.  “There ain’t nothin’ polite about what I want you to do to me, Harry.”  His words earn him a harder bite to his neck that sends a roll of desire down his spine.

Harry’s hands move down Eggsy’s body to the hem of his thin jumper and under, his thumbs trailing the skin just above his low slung jeans.  “Would you care to go into any detail?”  He punctuates his question with open mouthed kisses down Eggsy’s neck, hot and greedy.

Eggsy cards a hand into Harry’s hair and tugs a touch harder than necessary to get his attention, to pull him back enough so they can look at each other.  “I’d rather…”  He starts and stops, words stuck in his throat, caught off guard by the darkness in Harry’s eyes.  “I’d rather show you.”

They’re kissing again and Eggsy gets fucking lost in the feeling of Harry’s mouth against his.  Thoughts of everything he has ever wanted Harry to do with that mouth flash through his mind, intensified by how much better he already is than Eggsy’s imagination could ever have suggested.  His kisses are consuming and sharp, with the occasional hint of teeth that Eggsy chases with abandon.

He starts working on the buttons of Harry’s shirt, letting his knuckles drag down smooth skin with each one he pops open.  With the last he lays his palms flat against Harry’s abs, curling his fingers just enough for a hint of nails and drags them up his chest.  He catches Harry’s gasp with his mouth and smiles wickedly into the kiss.

When he shoves the fabric down the man’s shoulders with a rough push it forces Harry’s arms back and the two apart.  Harry is still trying to move back in for more, looking bereft.  Eggsy teases him, lifts himself off the door to slide ghosting kisses against Harry’s lips, tasting the warmth and desperation of his breath.

“You know I can get out of this.”  Harry warns against Eggsy’s smirk.

He guides him backwards, soaking in the sight of Harry bare chested with kiss swollen lips and already fucking breathless.  The whole image goes straight to his cock and Eggsy’s resolve to drag this out starts to shake.  “Oh I am aware.”  They make it further into the room and Harry’s legs hit the couch.  “But able,”  He nips at Harry’s chin and tightens his hold on the fabric in his hands.  “Got nuthin’ to do with willin’.”

Harry’s answering moan is fucking delicious.

Eggsy gives a light tug that takes Harry down to the couch with a satisfying huff.  As Eggsy slowly kneels down, straddling his lap, Harry pulls his arms free and immediately draws his hands up Eggsy’s thighs, settling in with a firm hold on his arse.

They don’t kiss again yet, instead watching each other’s reactions as Eggsy begins a slow and deliberate roll of his hips, guided by Harry’s hands on his body.  There is nowhere near enough friction or pressure to be satisfying.  It’s a tease.  A dance.  A contest to see who will break first.

He holds onto Harry’s shoulders, bites his own lip and comes in close, sharing a breath, noses brushing with every move he makes.

“Do you know how fuckn’ much I’ve wanted this?”  Eggsy speaks barely above a whisper.  “How often I’ve come sayin’ your name?”

The tiny whine from the back of Harry’s throat nearly has him giving in.  Harry looks just as close to breaking, just as lost.

Eggsy looms over him, presses himself close.  He drops his head back, exposing his neck and lets out the filthiest of moans mixed with Harry’s name the exact same way he has countless times in the silence of his own room.

And it fucking works.

Harry’s mouth is back in an instant – hot against Eggsy’s neck – biting hard enough to leave marks.  He relents only long enough to tug Eggsy’s top off and toss it aside.

Eggsy’s skin comes alive under his touch.  Each drag of his fingers tracing long lines of muscles, mapping every inch.  He arches his back and gives Harry’s mouth more room to roam, tilting his head as he feels the sharp sting of teeth against his collar that instantly dissolves into heated pleasure.  This is nothing like the night before.  That was sweet, fucking innocent compared to the way Harry is devouring him now.

And then there’s a strong hand palming his cock, still trapped beneath jeans.  Eggsy’s mind goes fucking blank.  “Fuck… fuck, Harry.”  He moves harder, chasing the pressure.

Harry just laughs against his skin.  “Do that again.”  He gives him another squeeze. “Say my name like that.”

Eggsy shakes his head and bites his lip, letting nothing but tiny, desperate noises escape while trying to focus on not falling apart.

“Eggsy….”

He’s expecting a commanding tone, but what he gets is shaken and needy, as if Harry is the one being palmed through his trousers and about to come like a fucking virgin.

“Fucking hell, Harry.”  He snatches Harry’s hands in his own, entwines their fingers and holds them out at their sides while he leans in and they crash together in another kiss.

With every slide of his lips, drag of teeth, taste of his tongue and every second that passes Eggsy realizes he is never going to get enough of this man.

He could spend the rest of eternity right here and it wouldn’t be enough.

A tiny, aching, and cracked part of his heart is screaming, shouting that this is the point of no return.  There will be no coming back from this.

Eggsy resolutely ignores it.

He slowly begins to push back, using Harry’s grip as leverage to slide one knee towards the edge and then the other.  Reluctantly he leaves Harry’s mouth for his neck and then his chest, exploring, tasting his skin.  A thrill goes through him to discover Harry has sensitive nipples, that a flick of his tongue and the lightest bit of suction makes him gasp for air and arch off the couch.

Eggsy has always imagined Harry would be a quiet lover.

God is he ecstatic to find out how wrong he has been.

The more attention Eggsy gives him – harder bites to his chest, kisses down his stomach, hands snaking up the inside of his thighs – the louder and more needy Harry’s moans become.  By the time Eggsy is kneeling between his legs working the button of his trousers while maintaining heated eye contact, Harry seems to have forgotten any sense of modesty he’d ever had.

Eggsy holds his breath, watching Harry’s reaction when the sound of a zipper is, for a long moment, the only sound in the room.  Then he pulls Harry free of the confines of his clothes and his breath comes back in a rush, heart beat pounding away in his ears.  He doesn’t look, not yet, because he is too mesmerized by Harry’s reactions.  

He flicks his tongue out once, twice, watching Harry's eyes darken and mouth gasp open. When Eggsy finally tears his gaze from Harry, he groans, mouth watering at the sight of it before guiding Harry’s cock to his gently parted lips.

 _“Christ_!”  Harry’s eyes briefly screw shut when Eggsy begins to suck at his head, fluttering his tongue just along the smooth skin.  He blinks them open, seems to force himself to watch and Eggsy finds a hand not only cradling his face, but one entwined in his fingers as well, Harry holding onto the hand he had pressed against the couch for stability.

Eggsy spends a long time teasing, knowing full well he has no intentions of letting the man come any time soon.  So he draws it out, going slow when he has his lips tight around him and then faster with lighter pressure and much less finesse.  He can’t take all of him – a thought that makes Eggsy’s body ache to know what it will feel like to be fucked by him – but he makes up for it by wrapping his hand around the base, moving and squeezing in tandem with the motions of his mouth.

The best part, by far, is that Harry fucking Hart turns into a quivering mess when he’s having his cock sucked.  Maybe he generally really likes it, but maybe it’s just Eggsy.

For the moment, Eggsy is choosing to go with the latter.

Harry’s hand slips back from his face and into his hair, his fingers beginning to curl just as Eggsy feels the rest of his body begin to tense up beneath him and a string of almost unintelligible curses escape Harry’s mouth.

Immediately he stops, pulling back slowly to savor the taste of Harry on his lips and the groan he gets when Harry throws his head back in frustration.

“You still have to fuck me.”  Eggsy reminds him.

Harry looks back down at him, face flushed a deep shade of red and entirely unamused.  “You still haven’t asked.”

 _And he’s not fucking going to._  Instead of answering, Eggsy gives him a stubborn look with his mouth barely hanging open, lips brushing against Harry’s length but not returning.

Harry’s chest heaves with the strength of his breath.

“Christ.”  The grip in Eggsy’s hair tightens and he’s tugged upwards with just enough pressure.  “Get up. _Now_.”

Eggsy’s eyes go wide.  If he hadn’t already been as hard as he could possibly be, Harry’s hungry tone would have fucking done it.

He gasps with a nod.  “Yes, sir.”  He says with a cheeky tone.  It’s not really his thing, obeying, but for Harry he’s fairly certain he’ll be into almost anything.

Harry meets him halfway in a filthy kiss, all wet lips and tongue that stokes the heat coiling in Eggsy’s gut back to a raging fire.  In a tangle of limbs, shoes being kicked off, half-open trousers – all with Harry never allowing Eggsy to even come up for air – they manage to make it through to the bedroom.

Harry is in his space and under his skin, driving him mad with every touch.  He barely notices when his body hits the bed because it’s followed immediately by more _Harry._  More touches, deeper kisses – Eggsy is being ruined from the inside out and at this point, he doesn’t even give it a second thought.

The rest of his clothes are removed without much care and the second he is completely naked Eggsy stretches, arching his back up with his arms above his head.  The look that darkens Harry’s features is nearly primal, licking his lips like he’s at the edge of any sliver of control he had left.

And damn if Eggsy’s ever seen anything hotter in his whole fucking life.

Harry starts at his knees, guiding them apart so he can settle between them, Eggsy’s legs hooked around his.  Then he moves up, along the soft, sensitive flesh of his thighs, startling a breathy laugh from Eggsy.  He seems more than a little amused by his reaction.  His thumbs trace the deep lines of Eggsy’s hip, then along the sides of his torso and along his arms until Harry’s body is rolling down to meet his, pinning him with his hands still above his head against the mattress.

Their bodies are pressed together, lengths trapped between them.  Eggsy surges forward to try and kiss him again, but Harry doesn’t give in, teasing him instead with a smirk and a devious look in his eyes.  He starts to grind against him, guides his head to the side to mouth at his neck and whisper words into his ear.

“Do you have any idea how perfect you look right now?”  Eggsy gasps when he nips at the shell of his ear.  “Laid out like this,”  he arches off the bed, bringing another sound of need from Harry.  “How much I’m going to enjoy fucking you?”

“Jesus, fucking –“  Eggsy continues to rock up to meet him, each roll of their bodies together sending sparks down his senses at a mile a minutes until he can feel it in his damn toes.  A spasm rolls through him that shifts to a full-body shudder.

“You can’t say shit like that Harry.”  He says, breathless.

“Eggsy,”  Harry warns.  “I can say _much_ worse.”

Before he has a chance to react to that Harry is moving again, down his collar, leaving tiny bites along his chest, fluttered kisses across the deep lines of his hips that makes Eggsy’s toes curl.

Without warning, no teasing, no anything, he takes Eggsy’s cock in to his mouth in one long, hot motion.

“Fuck!”  He can’t help the way he bucks up into his mouth, tight and deliciously wet around him.  And god bless him, Harry doesn’t hold him down or hold back.  He’s absolutely filthy with it, relentless, each slide of his mouth punctuated by a squeeze of Eggsy’s ass, fingertips gliding around his entrance.

Eggsy has his hands in his own hair, curled in and pulling hard enough to have something to focus on to keep him from giving in, to distract just enough from the intensity of the constant barrage of pleasure Harry gives so damned freely.  He’s going to come.  He doesn’t want to, not yet, but it’s too much, too hot.  

Harry is too god damned perfect.

But Harry stops, leaving him teetering on the edge, every muscle in his body screaming for release.

With a whine of protest Eggsy glances down to find Harry’s eyes roaming the room.

Eventually, his lust-addled brain suggests what he might be after.

“Side table.  My side.”  He offers between heavy breaths.

Harry moves so that he’s looming over Eggsy again, this time with a questioning glance.

“There was a welcome basket in the bathroom when we got here.”  He shrugs, “needed a home”. He’s surprised at how shaken his own words are, though he really shouldn’t be.

But Harry isn’t much better.  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Eggsy laughs, some of the tension slipping away.  “I _really_ didn’t think it would come up.”  He says flatly.

The look Harry gives him is searching and makes Eggsy squirm.  So he kisses it away, chasing the taste of himself on the older man’s tongue.  When he tries to wrap his arms around Harry he’s interrupted, hands guided back to their previous position far above his head.

“Don’t move.”  Harry commands into the kiss.

As he starts to pull away, Eggsy scoffs.  “Bossy.”

And of course he doesn’t deny it.

While Harry moves around out of sight, Eggsy lays there, as he was told, cock erect and exposed.  He’s desperately trying to catch his breath, floating in the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

The snap of a cabinet door closing is followed by a small bottle and foil packed tossed to the bed.  Harry returns with a smug grin.  “Maybe next time you can try it.”

Eggsy goes a little wide eyed at the thought of next time but covers it up with a sarcastic laugh.  “Right, like you’d ever listen to me.”

“Eggsy.”  Harry is close once more, keeping his gaze while he guides one of Eggsy’s legs up to hook over his shoulder.  He presses a tender kiss to the inside of Eggsy’s knee.  “You have _no_ idea what I would be willing to do for you.”  He moves to kiss him properly but in that moment it’s all too much and Eggsy turns his head, offering his neck which Harry takes happily.

His chest is tight and he has no idea what that means.

He sure as hell knows what he hopes it mean, but now is not the time to draw that out.

His fears are kissed away, buried behind shocks of pleasure when Harry starts to rut against him again.  He watches him rub his fingers together, warming the lube with a long drawn out breath.

Eggsy bites his lip.  He wants to laugh, to tease Harry with how even now he manages to be ‘gentlemanly’.  But the quip is caught on his tongue, forced to the side and replaced with a gasp when Harry slides his hand between them, along his arse, and easily slips the tip of a slick finger inside.  He can feel it along every inch of his spine, the slow burn as he tries to relax and open himself completely to Harry.

It doesn’t take long for him to forget any thoughts, or even how to think.  His world is quickly reduced to the feel of Harry’s one, two, then - _oh fuck_ \- three fingers fucking him slowly, savoring the stretch preparing him.  Eggsy begins to moan and claw at Harry’s back without shame, only somewhat aware of the intensity with which Harry is watching his every move.  Occasionally they’ll make a feeble attempt at a kiss, but as soon as Harry’s tongue invades his mouth, Eggsy is shouting from the way he simultaneously crooks his fingers just so, adding firm pressure from his thumb against his perineum.  He is wound up tighter than a corkscrew, pressure built up and trapped, right at the edge.

But it’s not enough.

“Harry…”  He barely manages to speak between the heaviness of his breath and the involuntary soft noises he’s constantly making.  “Harry, please.”

“What do you want, Eggsy?”  His words may be broken, but Harry’s voice is so sweet, like a gentle caress, and it’s almost enough to send him over.  He’s slowing down, teasing him within the edge of reason.

And Eggsy’s not fucking having it.

“You know,” He gets a grip into Harry’s hair and holds his gaze, “exactly what I fuckin’ want.”

Harry Hart fucking _breaks_.

And it is gorgeous.

He nearly growls into the kiss he gives him, hard and bruising enough that Eggsy barely notices the sudden empty feeling he’s left with when he pulls his hand away.  What gets to him though, what makes his heart stop and his brain shut down is the way Harry looks when he pulls back.  He’s taking a moment to roll a condom on and Eggsy watches, brings his hand up over his chest to feel Harry’s heartbeat pound away.  There’s sweat clinging to every inch of him, his hair curling in every direction.  His entire body is flushed, chest heaving, and there’s a slight tremor running down his arms.

Harry catches Eggsy’s gaze and his look loses a touch of its edge, softens almost imperceptibly.  He grabs his hand as he leans back down, pressing soft kisses to Eggsy’s knuckles in such a stark contrast to the intensity of the last few minutes Eggsy can’t help the soft mewl that comes from his lips.  He has to let go though, to hold himself up, so he can slowly press himself into Eggsy.

Eggsy gasps with the first bit of stretch, the delicious burning that comes at the beginning.  Then he exhales easily, forcing his body to relax around him, canting his hips up to meet Harry’s.  The string of expletives that slip from Harry’s mouth make everything seem more potent, stokes the heat of his desire.  Harry goes silent once their hips are flush and Eggsy can hear him breathing carefully.

They both tremble slightly, Eggsy focused entirely on the fullness he finally feels, how fucking blissed out Harry makes him.  He waits till Harry lifts his head from where it’s buried in Eggsy’s neck to try and move.

When Harry finally looks up he seems as far gone as Eggsy feels, strung out thin, pulled so tight he’ll snap at any moment.  His mouth is hanging open and all either of them can do is breathe.

Until Eggsy uses what leverage he has to move his hips and Harry’s entire body shakes with the moan that rolls through him.

“Harry.”  He whispers his name against his lips, dragging it out.

There’s a long pause where they share soft kisses, then Harry breathes out, “Yes?”

“ _Fuck me._ ”

Harry kisses him desperately as he pulls himself back with a long draw of his hips.

When he slams himself back Eggsy’s head drops down with a gasp.

He doesn’t stop and all Eggsy can do is hold on.

Harry fucks him deeply, with his hips snapping at the end of each thrust, sending wave after wave of ecstasy through Eggsy body, building the tension back in such a rapid pace that he can barely draw breath.  He doesn’t speak, barely makes a sound.  With an arm wrapped around Harry he digs his nails into his shoulder so tightly he’s sure to leave marks.  

Nothing matters but the way Harry moves, the way he fills him and the string of praise for how perfectly Eggsy takes him.  

He drinks it up, loses himself to Harry completely.  

And he is everywhere.  In his body, his mind, under his skin.  He wants it all and more and right now he has it.  Eggsy doesn’t want to ever let go.  The sensation starts at the base of his spine, the slow pouring of heat through his body as every muscle begins to tense as far as it will go and his back arches.  The motion brings a new roll to his hips and Harry’s movements lose their rhythm, their purposeful force.  

Eggsy holds his breath as he feels his release building up. His head is swimming now, dizzy with desire and crazed from the onslaught of pleasure.

Harry’s thrusts go wild.  “Fuck.  Fuck, Eggsy…”  The words stop, their needy noises and wanton sounds becoming incoherent as they focus entirely on each other, on the cusp of losing themselves completely.

Eggsy can feel it coming, but he is unprepared for when finally snaps, head thrown back with a long and shaky shout.  His release rips through his body from his head to his curled toes, drawn out by the strength of Harry continuing to fuck him through it until he’s shaking and feeling like every inch of his skin is rolling with electricity.  

When he can open his eyes again - still no where near coming down from his high - he blinks up at Harry, Harry who is so far gone and watching Eggsy so closely.  He’s an absolute mess and Eggsy think’s he’s the most beautiful thing in the world.  

So he reaches up to kiss him, wraps a hand behind his head and presses his lips just barely against his.  But Harry seems to want more, wants everything, and as he crashes down against him, parting his lips and simply taking, his hips stutter, slamming Eggsy’s body forward once, twice, then stilling with a long groan into their kiss.  

They lay together, kissing and touching, relishing in the feeling of such a release.  Eggsy barely even notices the cramp that’s starting to creep its way into his leg.  

Harry becomes gentle, tender in comparison to the way they just were. His kiss is slow and careful and his hand caresses Eggsy’s skin, around his hip and along his leg, guiding him down slowly.  The movement drastically changes the angle of their connection and they both gasp.  Before he completely pulls himself free, Harry reaches down to keep the condom on and gives Eggsy’s check a lingering kiss.  “Don’t go anywhere.”  

He’s gone a moment later and Eggsy’s entire body feels empty, wrecked, just this side of broken and exhausted.  

“Like I could walk anywhere right now.”  He tries to make light, to ignore the feeling in his chest that’s creeping back now that the high of sex and his orgasm is slowly slipping away.  

It’s not doing him any damn good.  

Harry returns with a damp cloth before Eggsy’s brain can get too carried away with all of the thoughts of ‘what the fuck’ and ‘what now’.  They continue to kiss while Harry very carefully cleans him.

Eggsy rolls over and they both silently kick the top cover down to the ground, leaving the damp cloth on the pile and lay back against the pillows.  Slowly they come down, boneless and breathing steadily again, despite their continued touches and soft kisses.

“Eggsy,”  Harry starts, rather pointedly.  He’s going to want to talk about what the hell just happened, but Eggsy can’t do it.

Not yet.

“Wait.”  He presses a finger to Harry’s lips and draws a deep breath.  “I’ve got this rule, right?”  Harry gives him a weary smile, but nods.  “Thing is, nuthin’ said while naked that hasn’t been said first while fully clothed?  Well, it doesn’t count, yeah?”

For a long time Harry considers him, studies his face and draws fingers through his hair.  “Are you absolutely certain?”  He asks.

“Completely.”

And the way Harry kisses him, like he’s the most precious thing in the world, is at once the most amazing and the scariest thing.  “Tomorrow then.”

“I promise.”

They continue to kiss, to curl around each other until there is no energy left and no reason to continue fighting the pull of the deep sleep that comes after such exertion.  Physical, and emotional.  

Eggsy finds himself being pulled under while wrapped completely up in Harry, held closely, a warm, steady breath at the back of his neck.  He no longer knows if what he’s thought for so long is true, maybe he was wrong, maybe…

Eventually he falls asleep, terrified of the answer that is yet to come.   

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of my love for my beta reader, [Stainedglasscurtains](http://stainedglasscurtains.tumblr.com/), who edits my messes and sometimes holds my hand while I shout incoherently at her about idiots in love and what's wrong with them (and why am I _doing_ this to them?!)


	11. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some seriously spy movie level of hacking in this thing. So just be warned...

Like every knight, Roxy’s daily armor is a sleek, well-tailored suit.  They all have long, sweeping lines and well pressed hems.  She’s lost count of the number of smart blouses she has accumulated to wear beneath her jackets.  They are classy, and quite sexy.  Shoes must of course always be a kitten heel.  They aren’t just easier to run in than anything else, but they maintain her short stature and she fully embraces that aspect of herself.  In a world of men who tower over her, being petite has the distinct advantage of shocking the hell out of them when she tosses them over her shoulder.

She loves it.  She lives for it.

All that being said, Roxy still goes on a bit of a power trip in a skin tight black cat suit.

Like the one she’s wearing now.

Her movements are silent along the rooftop while she softly steps along the wall.  It was a feat to make it up here, scaling a fifteen story building, but Merlin had talked to her casually the whole time.  It helped her keep her calm on the way.  She would have made it regardless, but the calm was nice.  

“I’m in place, Merlin.  Just give the word.”

“One minute, Lancelot.  Re-routing a few protocols.”

The skyline of Luxembourg expands seemingly endlessly out before her, but she doesn’t have time to appreciate its beauty.  She presses herself back against the wall just outside of the roof’s entrance and mentally goes through her checklist.  Everything she needs is tucked into the belt at her hip, carefully categorized in order of necessity from her left side to right.  She’s done worse than this, harder than this, dozens of times now.

And she always proves herself to be the best.

But that doesn’t stop the flutter in her chest.

“You have your card scrambler ready to go?”

The first device she pulls is the size of a compact and fits in her palm.  She squeezes the edges and pops it apart, holding the thinner piece of plastic above the card reader and the other in hand.  She smiles, relieved, when the screen comes to life.

“Ready when you are.”

“I’m going to count down and when we are ‘go’ we’re on the clock.”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“Good.  Ready in three…”

Roxy takes a deep breath.

“…two…”

Holds it in and makes her mind focus completely on her task.

“…one…”

And exhales.

“Go.”

Roxy slips the card into the reader and pushes the activation button.  The numbers on the screen flare to life and as each one settles into a specific digit she presses a gloved finger to the keypad on the wall.  Six numbers.

Thirty seconds.

With the unfortunately loud sound of a maglock releasing she is instantly on the move.  Its two fights down to the service corridor she needs and she’s as fast and light on her feet as possible.  This door is a simple deadbolt since technically it just leads to central air and electrical equipment.  She drops to her knee and begins to work the lock.  In her ear Merlin hums quietly to the rhythm of his own typing and she thinks she recognizes the tune - they had watched the movie only a few weeks earlier.  He is busy keeping the security systems occupied while simultaneously erasing any evidence he had ever been there.

“Or would you rather be a fish…”  Roxy sings quietly, just as the last tumbler falls into place.

One minute, forty seconds.

“In.”  She whispers.

“Go until the corridor splits.  Take it left for twenty feet and you’ll see the relay box.”

She’s moving before he finishes his instructions, all but running down the hall.  There isn’t supposed to be anyone here, but that is no reason not to be on high alert.  When the wide open area she’s in comes to an end she curses.  “You can’t be serious.”    

“You’re tiny.  Make it work.”

Two minutes, ten seconds.

Here there is barely any space between a vast array of pipes and metal boxes and the wall on the other side.  She is small, but she is _not_ tiny.  As she slips sideways in the cramped space she wonders how grown fucking men are expected to get in here and work.

Two minutes, forty seconds.

She carefully measures her steps and scans the wall for her target.  When she finds it she curses.

“Merlin.”  She says in a forced whisper.  “It’s a bit high.”

The relay box is attached to the very top of the wall where it meets the ceiling.

A good four feet above her head.

Two minutes, fifty-five seconds.

“Would you like a step-ladder, kitten?”

At that she screws up her face and growls, falling silent the second she realizes how tiny it sounds and that she played right into it.  Merlin doesn’t laugh, but she can picture his smile and it makes her relax just a bit, which was likely his intention.  It takes a moment to take in her surroundings and she quickly discovers that the walls are just close enough together that she can turn sideways and both feet touch.  As long as she can find space between the pipes.

Perfect.

Three minutes, thirty-two seconds.

Her shoes grip the surface perfectly and she is at the top of the wall in no time, silently mouthing off at Merlin in her head.  Braced between the walls, she gets to work.

“Remind me why we didn’t just ask this Pavus person to help us?”  She asks.

The screws that fasten the relay box to the wall come out easily, if a bit slow.

“Because Pavus is an entirely anonymous source.”  Merlin reminds her.  “No contact from our side.”

Four minutes, fifty seconds.

With a bit of effort she manages to pull it free, setting the metal container on the nearest pipe, careful to not pull any cords coming from it to the wall too tightly.  The box was her target.  But not her goal.

Just inside the hole in the wall the box reveals is a large grouping of blue and green cables,

“You want the green ones.”  Merlin offers without prompting.   “They’re cat-6 and the fastest out there.  No doubt that’s what Whitehall has his super program hooked up to.”

“Are you sure?  The connection takes a bit.  We don’t have time to be wrong.”

“Absolutely.  Do it.”

Five minutes, ten seconds.

Roxy checks her watch. _Shit.  Already behind._

The small black box she pulls out next is a bit difficult to manipulate while hanging around four feet off the ground but she manages.  She pulls one of the cables out just enough to get a long metal tube snapped around it.  From the end of the metal a thick wire runs out to a small display which shows the status of their connection.  Eggsy had dubbed it the ‘Rox-box’ since the tech actually came from an idea she had had.  Merlin said it was stupid.  Didn’t stop the rest of the knights from calling it that too.

“Shit.  Shit shit shit.”  Merlin doesn’t really sound as panicked as his words suggest and Roxy sighs, keeping an eye on her status bar.

“Problems?”

“They have a subroutine I didn’t account for.  A second sniffer that’s fucking tracking the primary one.”

“Who the hell does that?”

“People who have shit to hide.”

Roxy nods her head and hums.  Makes sense.  That’s why they’re here after all.  “Need a hand?”

There’s silence on the other end of the line for a moment while she imagines Merlin is going a bit wild with his system.  “No.  But you’re going to be on your own.  Think you can handle it?”

She rolls her eyes.  “Of course I can.  I learned from the best.”

Merlin is apparently too focused to acknowledge her, instead beginning to mutter away about codes and system languages.  And then he sounds _excited_. “Oh you are beautiful.”

Seven minutes.

Her status bar is nearly full and she’s going to have to do this part without Merlin working in tandem from where he is.  The pounding in her chest from earlier returns tenfold, almost as if she was half way up the side of the building again.  It’s crucial that they do not get caught.  For Harry and Eggsy’s safety.  If they are caught, if they leave any hint or trace that they were ever there or of what they did it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out who was responsible for it.  And they _are_ working against a genius after all.

With very little time before she has to begin, she reaches into her belt again and pulls out a plastic roll of silicon, flattening it out over the metal box she had removed from the wall and plugging it into her Rox-box.  ( _Yes okay, Merlin.  The name is stupid.)_  Above the silicon keyboard a computer screen projection comes to life with a soft blue hue.

Seven minutes, fifteen seconds.

The status bar fills, changing from red to green and she goes to work.  She gets so entirely focused, eyes darting across the projection of code as it flies by and following each opening like a cat with a mouse.  It is almost entirely silent, on both ends, except for the tapping of her fingers and the occasional impressed sounds from Merlin.  Her chest gets tight and her skin damp with sweat.

Time runs away from them.

Until her watch beeps.

Ten minutes.

_Fuck._

Ten minutes, thirty seconds

“It’s time to go, Lancelot.”

The download percentage reads only eighty percent. “Not yet.”

“I can’t give you more time.  The system resets at fifteen and then you’ll be lighting up every motion and sound sensor on that floor.”

“I don’t need more time to get out I need more time to get this fucking…”  The number finally flips over to one hundred percent and she’s moving faster than before.

Eleven minutes, ten seconds.

Roll the key board, break the connector from the cable – it is a one use item – and wrap it all up into the pouches on her belt.

Eleven minutes, twenty seconds.

And she still has to put the relay box back.  The screws go in slower than they fucking came out and she can start to feel herself slip down the wall with how badly she’s starting to shake.

Thirteen minutes, forty-three seconds.

Roxy drops to the ground, toe to heel and landing in a crouch to absorb the impact.  “On my way.”  Her legs are burning from holding herself up for so long but that doesn’t matter in the slightest at the moment.

She slides along the small space towards the main hall.

Fourteen minutes.

Roxy takes off at a dead run.           

Fourteen minutes, fifteen seconds.

She pokes her head out of the door and does a quick survey of the stairs, listening carefully just in case, then jumps for the stair rail, pushing off the one closest to her to catch the one above it and flip onto the top floor landing.

Fourteen minutes, thirty-eight seconds.

 _“You are out of time, Lancelot_.”  Merlin warns, no small amount of worry in his voice.

Roxy pushes the roof-top door open just enough to fit through.

It closes with the most satisfying thunk she’s heard in ages.

Fourteen minutes, forty-six seconds.

“No.  What I’m out of is the building.”

Roxy stops to take a deep breath for only a moment, then continues towards the edge of the roof.

“That’s my girl.”

 

 

The adrenaline high of a job well done is something Roxy doubts she’ll get used to.  Not that she wants to, of course.  Ever.

The excitement is still buzzing just under her skin, a light tingle from head to toe.  It may also be the reason for her slightly heavier foot on the gas pedal.  But Merlin hasn’t complained yet so she doesn’t worry about it.

It’s only thirty minutes out to the private airfield where a plane waits to take them back to London.  They are set to make it in twenty.

“You were wonderful, by the way.”  In the passengers seat Merlin shuts his laptop and reaches down to put it in his bag.  He had been making sure they got everything they had been after and is apparently satisfied.

“I really was, wasn’t I?”  Roxy smiles and wiggles in her seat a little, happy.  Even though Merlin rolls his eyes he is smiling as well.

“Everything is up to them now.  Arthur and Galahad should have everything wrapped up in another day or two at most and we will be able to either present evidence to the right authorities to have Whitehall incarcerated for a very long time, or simply ruin him from the bottom up.”

“Incarceration would probably be the more logical option.”

“Not as fun.”  He adds with a grin and a shrug.

Roxy downshifts their little car to get more power going up a hill, enjoying the roar from the engine.  “How are our boys doing anyway?”

There is this thing Merlin does when he wants to answer a question but really knows he shouldn’t.  Roxy had picked up on it – the raise of his eyebrows and the subtle tilt to his head – very early on.  She usually doesn’t comment or push (especially since he tends to eventually give in anyway) but this case is different.

“Merlin?”  Her tone is curious and warning.

He doesn’t look over at her, instead focusing on the road ahead.  For a long time he is silent, until he sighs.  “Well, they haven’t killed each other.”  He offers, rather pointedly.

It takes a second for that to sink in.

But when it does –

“ _Oh my god_.”  She slumps a bit in her seat and frowns.  Under her breath, she whines.  “Eggsy what are you doing?”  But then she glances at Merlin.  “Are you certain?”

“Absolutely.  I just read a very strongly worded email from Niviane requesting I remind Arthur of the proper care and removal of Kingsman issued eye wear whilst engaging in non-mission sanctioned activities and that it does not include leaving them in one’s pockets.”  He pauses, then mutters.  “Can’t believe it only took three days.”

Roxy feels like she’s been doused in cold water, the adrenaline and excitement gone in an instant, replaced with worry for her dear friend.

Apparently Merlin notices her abrupt shift in mood.

“I assumed you would be happy for him.  It isn’t as if they haven’t been on this path for a long while.”

“I am happy.”  Which is true- _ish_ , but – “I just…”  Roxy sighs with a shake of her head.  “It’s complicated.”

Merlin places a warm hand at the back of her neck and gives her a light squeeze, reassuring smile on his features.  “Un-complicate it.”

“No”  She says immediately, much to his surprise.  “I push him as much as he pushes me and I am always there for him, but I can’t solve his problems for him and they aren’t mine to share.”  She’s beginning to feel immense guilt about having expressed amusement over the whole thing in the beginning.  Though she had genuinely thought _Harry_ would at the very least not have given in so damn easily in the middle of a fucking mission.

Merlin seems like he wants to press the issue, but Roxy gives him a cutting glance and he drops his hand and anything he was about to say.

Roxy thinks about the night Eggsy had shown up at her doorstep, soaked to the bone with no strength left in him after walking all over the city.

After crying until he’d had nothing left.

After Harry’s funeral.

She’d taken him in, dried him off and warmed him up.

And Eggsy had told her everything.

There was a repeat performance six months later when Harry had waltzed in on a round table meeting like he had just stepped out to the loo.

But that one had been so much worse – less tears and a hell of a lot more anger.  Not to mention the amount of self-depreciation.

Roxy had thought that two years would have been enough time for him to move on.  He at least has been acting as if he had.  Sleeping with Harry either meant that he hadn’t and had been flat out lying to himself (which is entirely possible) or that he is about to start the whole damn cycle over again.

As she pulls into the hangar bay and sets their car in park, Roxy decides that she will hold onto hope for a third option.


	12. Day Four: 0350

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're over half way through!  
> And we would not be here without the wonderful help of [stainedglasscurtains](http://stainedglasscurtains.tumblr.com).

The first time Harry wakes it can’t be much past three.  Four at the latest.

He doesn’t exactly check, too comfortable and warm to do anything except enjoy the feeling of Eggsy’s body laying practically on top of him.  Harry has always been a still sleeper but Eggsy – much like when he is awake – seems to be in constant motion.  For now though he is still, breathing deeply and stunningly beautiful.  The warmth of each exhale is a soft whisper against Harry’s skin.  It’s better than a thick blanket and a million times more comforting.  Eggsy’s skin is so soft, Harry’s fingers gliding along smooth curves of muscle with silken ease.

There is absolutely no doubt in his mind that this moment is fleeting.  That when the sun rises he will be forced to face the reality of whatever happened between them.  But Harry has asked the world for so little in all his years.  This?  He will enjoy this for as long as he is allowed.  Harry presses a loving kiss to Eggsy’s brow as he lets himself slip back into sleep, clinging to the happiness he fears likely to vanish with the dawn.

The second time Harry wakes is decidedly less pleasant.

There is a blanket over him this time, but that is all.  Despite the protection from the cool morning air he still feels a deeper chill than before, when he had woken exposed with only Eggsy’s body pressed against his providing any warmth.  No.  This cold goes down to his bones and he doesn’t have the courage to open his eyes to be assured his bed is empty.  He is certain he will roll over and meet only more mattress.  His head, logically, informs his heart that it is jumping to conclusions.  But if Harry’s heart had the capacity to listen to his head in the last three days he wouldn’t be in this mess.

_You’re being a fool._  He desperately tries to tell himself.  But the tightness in his chest refuses to dissipate no matter how much he wills it to, to shut down and let him move.

Eventually he does open his eyes, facing one of the other pillows.  It’s just next to his shoulder and still slightly curved in from a night of use and completely, heart breakingly, empty.

And it is much earlier than Eggsy usually wakes for his morning rituals.

He is not sure what he _should_ have expected, nor what he had _actually_ expected for that matter.  They had never even kissed one another before, let alone said anything that could be considered a lead into a physical relationship of any kind.  There had been nothing, on either side.  He is aware, of course, that an emotional attachment is not a requirement for sleeping with someone – well, not for everyone.

Though he supposes it’s the level of emotional attachment he’s looking for that may be his problem.  Harry has been closer to Merlin for (Christ, he can’t believe he’s thinking about this) longer than Eggsy has been alive and _they’d_ never slept together.  He also understands that Eggsy and Roxy care deeply about each other and he knows – is at least almost certain – that they haven’t either.

Harry could count on one hand (one _finger_ ) the times that outside of work he had fallen into bed with someone he hadn’t truly cared for.  And he’d hated every minute of it.  But usually he had enough of his wits about him to at least be reasonably sure they cared for him as well, at least enough to make it all worth the effort.  Now, he isn’t sure of a damned thing.

Especially after the way Eggsy had refused to speak to him about anything after.

The young man had been thoroughly impossible to resist.  He was drawn to him like a magnet and the second Eggsy had asked, had offered, Harry felt helpless to say no.  He had tasted sweeter than he could have thought possible, had been a natural force that Harry had lost himself within and now felt lost without.  Harry reluctantly admits how scared he is that he has somehow ruined everything before it could have ever began.

Though he’s not being very specific with himself on any of the details as to what or how he’s ruined it.

Harry Hart looks at the empty space next to him and refuses to break down and allow himself to be overly emotional.  What he does do, what he always does when falling apart isn’t an option, is what he does every morning.

He sits up and straightens his shoulders, letting out a long breath.  Then he stands with as neutral of an expression on his features as he can manage, and he faces his day.

His movements – tossing the covers aside, swirling his robe around to throw over his shoulders – send small gusts of air throughout the room.

They pick up a scrap of paper that had already been blown to the ground.

It swirls around and glides across the floor, coming to rest far under the bed.

Eggsy’s messy scrawl lands face down.

 

 

 

 

“You have finally lost it.”

“I am fairly certain I lost it a long time ago.  I just only recently became aware anything was missing.  But my sanity is not the reason for this conversation.”  Harry fastens the final button on his shirt with a sigh.  “How did you know?”  He’s mostly certain neither he nor Eggsy had been wearing their glasses the previous evening.  But as many details are permanently etched in his mind, there are twice that many he has second guessed into uncertainty in the scant half an hour since he woke.

“How many times have we told you glasses don’t belong in pockets?”  Merlin is chiding Harry with a good natured tone but it doesn’t help his mood in the slightest.  Despite trying to focus his thoughts on literally anything else, Harry still has a lump in his chest that simply won’t go away.

“You have a report for me?”  He asks, reaching under his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.  His voice is strained and he knows that he is a far cry from his usual level of composure.

There’s a long pause where he can picture Merlin’s face perfectly, disappointed and on the verge of insubordinate.  They’ve been friends well over half their lives at this point.  He can almost feel his judgmental gaze despite how far away he may be.  “Lancelot and I retrieved the package.  It was touchy but we managed to leave without anyone being made aware of our presence.”

Harry fishes his tablet out of his pack and at first moves to sit on the edge of the bed, but thinks better of it.  The couch is also out so he makes his way to the balcony instead.  The sky outside is slowly coming to full brightness, the dull grey blues on this side of the island changing to something much more vibrant.  “Did it contain everything we expected?”

“From what we have seen so far, yes.  We are still in transit back to the shop, so I haven’t had a chance to sit down and analyze it yet.”  Merlin sounds as if he’s dying to do just that.

“Are we certain there were no traces of our presence left behind?”  The tablet comes to life as he speaks and he starts pulling up streaming news reports and social media feeds from Luxembourg.

“As certain as we can be after being given a mere six hours to plan a bank robbery.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Merlin.  You were hardly robbing the establishment of any money currently in their possession.”

“Oh.  Of course not.  Ignoring the fact that the building doesn’t even house any cash and if it did, it still wouldn’t have been as secure as what we were after, of course.”  He has a point, though Harry’s not eager to admit it out loud.  Most banks guard their digital information much more fiercely than their paper assets.  Especially those that have a minimum net worth requirement of its clients.  Their data costs considerably more than cash.

“You will send a report of your findings as soon as you have anything.”  Harry ignores Merlin’s sarcasm and continues skimming his feed.

He does give a halfhearted smile at Merlin’s sigh.  “Of course, Arthur. I do have one other piece of information for you, though.”

When Merlin doesn’t immediately continue Harry prompts, “Go on.”

“We left the facial recognition program running after our initial assessment on Lucas.  For someone his age, having such a small online footprint is unusual, though not unheard of by any means.  So we kept digging.  We found a surveillance photograph deep in the CIA’s servers of him in Moscow the month before he claims to have met good Sir Whitehall.”

Harry drops his tablet to his lap and takes a moment to consider all that that could possibly mean.  “That could throw everything the young man has said under question.”

“It may.  But it may not.  He wasn’t the focus of the surveillance nor did he show up as affiliated with anyone who was.  Could have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.  He was a university student at the time, already traveling far from home.”

“Perhaps.”  He agrees, though neither man is convinced.  There are suddenly more questions than ever.  It is a possibility that his presence on a CIA server could just be a coincidence, even if the chance is not a very likely one.  “Merlin.”

“Yes, Arthur.”

Harry clears his throat and keeps his tone as flat as he can manage.  “See to it that Galahad receives this information as soon as possible.”  He needs Eggsy to be completely up to date on anything related to Lucas as soon as possible, even if he hadn’t gotten as close to the young man as he has.  But since he had, it is crucial.

There is a long stretch of silence between the two men.  Harry knows his friend is piloting a plane at the moment so he is choosing to believe he’s momentarily occupied by something important.  Of course his next words, spoken with a soft tone of sympathy, shatter that illusion to pieces.

“I see.”

Anger finally creeps through Harry’s fears, at himself, at Merlin, at everything – even at Eggsy.  His carefully controlled composure begins slipping away from his fingers and his skin crawls with it.  It cracks through him inch by until he feels like the dam is about to break.

“I highly doubt you do, Merlin.”  He snaps out.  “Now do your job so we can do ours and get off this god forsaken island.”  Harry doesn’t wait for an answer, rather grabbing his glasses and tossing them to the table where they land and slide to the edge, just barely not falling off.

Harry grabs on tightly to the anger, lets it occupy his mind, and clings to it for dear life.  Angry he can do.  Anger he can handle.  Anger he knows how to channel into work.

Right now it is all he has.


	13. Day Four: 0735

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter only - CW: domestic abuse.

Second guessing every fucking decision he makes is absolutely nothing new to Eggsy.  He does it every day.  Often.  It is a feeling that’s so familiar it’s almost comfortable.  There’s a sense of order to it really; do something impulsive, realize that was probably a fuck up after, then deal with the consequences.

It’s gotten him pretty far in life.

These consequences though…

There will be no going back to anything he and Harry had been before last night.  Not a chance in hell, and he knew that much going in.

What he hadn’t realized was that he would also quickly discover that his physical desires for Harry paled in comparison to the rest.  They had mind-blowing sex and when he lay there afterwards falling asleep, and in his waking moments before dawn, all he could think about how much more he wanted.  How much of _everything else_.  What he’s wanted for so damned long.

Eggsy is mad for him and he knows he needs to let Harry know, to tell him everything one way or another.  To face his own terrors and get an answer once and for all so he can move on with his damn life.

He is on his third lap of the island by the time the soft pinks and purples of sunrise begin to fade into the proper light of day.  His legs are feeling the burn, the rest of his body still humming with a pleasant ache from the previous evening.  He’s likely to be useless before he’s run far enough to forget, even for a little while.

That is the problem with a circular path on such a small island.

It keeps forcing you to return to where you had begun.

Waking up in Harry’s arms had been a fucking dream come true.  He had been solid and strong beneath him, and Eggsy couldn’t remember a time he had slept more soundly, despite how worried he had been.

He had been so sure of Harry’s lack of feelings for him for so fucking long that the way he touched him, the things he had said, left Eggsy more confused than ever before.  There had been a level of passion in his actions that Eggsy had dreamed about, but hadn’t expected in the slightest if it had just been lust.  If Harry had cared for him as more than a protégé, or even more than just a close friend, then Eggsy had wasted two years being a fucking idiot.

But, if he had, why the hell hadn’t Harry said anything either?

And if he didn’t… well…

It’s not like Eggsy’s got anything left to lose.

Eggsy had known when he sat up that morning and watched Harry sleep that if Harry didn’t have the same feelings as Eggsy, then he was fucked. Because he is so far gone for that man.  He had sat there, watching Harry – sleeping so damn peacefully that you would almost never guess what kind of raw power he truly held – and all he had wanted was to be allowed to stay in that moment as long as he could have it.  The ability to look, to watch him sleep, to wake up next to him, to kiss him good morning with bad breath and not even care because it was Harry.

He stops running at the far end of the island, coming to an easy halt where the path curves back in on itself and stares out at the vast, never ending blue of the ocean while he tries to catch his breath.

Eggsy wants the mornings and the evenings and the goodnight kisses.  He wants the small touches he’s had these last three days and the lingering looks.  He wants to be the reason Harry leaves the office an hour early some days, and he wants to kiss him senseless when he’s being too fucking posh for his own good.

And how the hell Eggsy had convinced himself he had given up all of those dreams is fucking mind blowing, to be honest.

He knows what he’s feeling, what he fucking wants and for the first time he doesn’t argue with himself, doesn’t fight it or make excuses.  Eggsy just wants a damn answer.

His heart pounds harder in his chest as he turns back towards the resort.  But he doesn’t even take a single step before he does an about face.  Over and over again he practically spins in place, unable to force himself to push forward, to get it fucking over with.

Eventually, furious with himself, Eggsy plops down to the ground facing the ocean with his legs drawn up and his head on his knees.  He feels not only like an idiot, but such a coward.

At least when he had left that morning he’d left a note.

              _‘Running.  Be back soon.  Promise.  –E’_

 _Running._  He thinks.   _How appropriate_.  He’d been running from this for so long.

Eggsy focuses on the sound of the ocean, lets the white noise of waves breaking against the rocks below lull him into a much calmer state.  By the time his mobile buzzes in his pocket several minutes later, he can, at the very least, breathe again.  His chest still hurts but he’s given up on that going away anytime soon.

There’s a text waiting for him, and the sender is simply listed as ‘unknown’.

_Read a book – R._

He sighs and sticks it back in his pocket.  He hadn’t brought his glasses with him, which is quite frankly unheard of and highly unprofessional.  It’s just something else he has screwed up today.

It also means he has to return to the room for which – despite his assurances to Harry and his resolution to himself – he is far from ready.

But he is stronger than his fears.  He is better than his insecurities.  Or at least, he can be.  He should be.  He stands and starts jogging back toward the center of the island before he gives himself a chance at any more second thoughts.  Eggsy is, above all else, a Kingsman.  He is a knight with a mission and that is far more important than any of his personal shit.

 

 

 

Luckily, however, Eggsy is spared having to face anything yet.  When he comes into the room he can see Harry out on the balcony with the glass door slid almost completely shut, facing away.  As quietly as he can Eggsy, finds his glasses and his wallet, checking to be sure the tracking device he plans on using later is still there.  When he makes it back to the door he watches Harry in silence for a moment, his chest heavy.  Harry runs a hand through his hair then seems to drop his head forward.

Eggsy wants to go to him, to work all of this mess out.

But his glasses are already beeping lightly in his ear, indicating the incoming transmission.  So he takes the convenient excuse and runs with it, shutting the door as quietly as he can on his way out.

Roxy is – _thank fucking god_ – the one on the other end of the line.  She is completely serious and business as usual at first, letting him know about the success of their evening and the update they have on Lucas.  It’s a twist he wasn’t expecting to say the least.  But for the moment it doesn’t change his plans for the day.  He still has to do the leg work and get into the safe, no matter who Lucas may turn out to actually be.

He just needs to be on a much higher alert level.  Which is exactly what he needs right now.

“Galahad?”  Roxy says quietly, just as they are about to sign off.  “Should I expect a two am call upon your return?”  The no nonsense tone of her voice is gone, replaced with worry that is clear as day.  Eggsy instantly knows she knows.

Somehow, that actually makes him feel better.  “Outlook not clear.  Ask again later, yeah?”  He responds since literally nothing is clear to him right then.

“Alight.”  She says without hesitation.

Eggsy tilts his head, a small, sad smile taking over his features.  “Lancelot?”

“Yes?”

He sighs, some of the weight gone from his chest.  “Thanks, luv.  You’re the greatest.”

“Always.”  There’s a tiny sound as if she’s blowing him a kiss.  “Good luck, and come home soon.  I’ll be waiting.”

 

 

 

By lunch time Eggsy still hasn’t swallowed his fears and returned to the room.   _Fucking coward._

It turns out to be a good thing, however.

Nice of it to happen every now and then.

He’s been idly wandering around most of the morning, keeping an eye out for Lucas – who hasn’t responded to any of his texts – or Duncan.  Though he’d rather avoid running into him at all costs.  Then, as he’s making his way down a narrow stair towards food he sees both of them off in the corner by one of the pools and obviously arguing.  They aren’t shouting, but from their tense body language alone he knows whatever it is isn’t pretty.

Immediately Eggsy is on alert, watching every move between the two men as he slows his movements down the stairs.  Lucas is angled away from Duncan and despite obviously attempting to break off any contact he is still standing tall and firm. He’s trying to leave, but not backing down or slinking away.  For his part Duncan seems to be trying to make himself appear larger than his partner, with his shoulders pulled back and his chest puffed out.  It almost looks as if he’s raised himself to the balls of his feet with the force of his words.  More importantly, Duncan has Lucas’ wrist twisted in his hand.  He knows Lucas can get out of that, but he also knows all too well what purposely not putting up a fight looks like.

The back handed slap Duncan lands across the younger man’s face is loud enough it makes Eggsy wince.  Other guests around the pool also hear it and look around, but the two of them are tucked away into an alcove that is impossible to see from any of the lounging chairs.  Eggsy has to stamp down his immediate reaction which is to bolt down there and shove the bastard against the wall.  It makes his skin crawl and insides boil to do so, but he waits until Duncan is storming off before making his own approach.

When he comes around the corner he finds Lucas leaning back against the wall with a hand cradling his face and a perfect blend of fury and pain in his eyes.  They make eye contact and when he isn’t immediately told to fuck off, Eggsy takes the empty spot next to Lucas and leans back as well.

They stand in silence for a short while before Eggsy sighs.  “You know if you move with the direction of the force it hurts – physically – a hell of a lot less.”

“And what about not physically?”  Lucas glances over at him with a curious look in his eyes, bringing his hand down to reveal a split lip.

Eggsy drops his own gaze and shrugs.  “Never figured that one out.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

They fall silent, Eggsy waiting for Lucas to direct their conversation from here.  There are a dozen different ways he can take it, and he’s seen them all.  Not just in his own home.  He wasn’t the only one of his friends who had to put with complete bastards.

“He doesn’t get like that too often.”  Lucas eventually offers, shaking his head.  He doesn’t sound like he’s making excuses, simply stating a fact.  But still…

“I’ve heard that before.”  Eggsy repeats Lucas’ words rather pointedly.

There’s a small huff of a laugh and when Eggsy looks he finds Lucas with a sad smile.  “Don’t get me wrong.  It’s not new by any means, but something has _really_ set him off this morning.”

Alarm bells fire rapidly in Eggsy’s mind, but he’s careful to keep his tone and features the same.  He wants to ask what it was, what would be so bad to set him off.  But he’s not sure Lucas is safe, especially after this morning, and he is well aware that there is a chance he is being played.  Eggsy is in dangerous territory, and he isn’t sure where his foot holds are at the moment.  “Sounds like you need to find a distraction.”

He gives Lucas an easy smile, grabbing his shoulder and giving it a tight squeeze.

For a moment Lucas studies him, some of the fury from earlier draining from his gaze.  But he shakes his head.  “Nah.  I think I’m gonna take a little siesta.  It’s been a long day and it’s barely noon.”

“Alright,” Eggsy mentally curses and double checks the placement of the tiny tracker he’s just placed under Lucas’ collar.  Maybe he won’t actually go back to the room.  “But when you get up, call me and we’ll go terrorize the resort.  Maybe lose ourselves in another bottle of tequila, yeah?”

When Lucas smiles this time it’s bright and open. He turns to face Eggsy and pats him on the shoulder, his hand lingering.  “That sounds like the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

On red alert, Eggsy watches him leave and stays behind in the little alcove.  He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and clears his throat.  “Fuck.  Fuck, fucking, fuck. Niviane? You there?”

“Yes, Galahad.”  Her soft, familiar voice is a comfort to his nerves.  “Go ahead.”

“That tracker live?  Got a good signal?”

“Loud and clear.  I’ll keep you updated on his position.”

“You’re wonderful, luv.  But now I need Merlin.”

She is silent for a moment.  “He’s still sleeping.”  Niviane’s voice has a touch of apprehension in it.  No one likes waking the man.

Eggsy drops his head back against the hard surface of the wall.  “Then wake him the fuck up.  We’ve got problems.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my love for the most fabulous beta reader in existence, [stainedglasscurtains](http://stainedglasscurtains.tumblr.com)!


	14. Day Four: 1825

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am _so_ sorry.

“Run it again.”

“Arthur.  There is nothing else to see.  We have spent the last three hours going over twenty minutes of data.  There’s nothing left.  Something new isn’t going to magically show itself.”  Merlin sounds fed up and honestly, Harry doesn’t blame him.  He’s fairly _done_ with the whole thing himself.

“What about Lancelot?  Could someone have heard her?”  Harry paces around their sitting room, occasionally glancing down to input another query into his tablet.

“Only if there was someone else there that should not have been.”  He answers, obviously at the end of his rope.  “It is entirely possible that Whitehall has something else that has set him off.  There is nothing to indicate he knows anything happened last night.”

Harry stops in the middle of the room and takes a deep breath.  He knows perfectly well what Merlin is referring to but it doesn’t stop the images of his own previous evening from trying to push their way back to the front.  “That is not a chance we can take.”  He shakes his head.  They must be prepared for any possible outcome and that includes being discovered.  Though he trusts Merlin, and Lancelot, he does not trust the odds.

And he sure as hell doesn’t trust coincidence.

“It’s just too convenient.”  He adds, starting to pace again.

He’d been informed immediately about the confrontation by the pool and managed to find Duncan just as he had been casting off.  Harry had waited until his boat had been out of sight to return to his room where he had busied himself pouring over recordings from Merlin and Roxy’s little heist.

Merlin is right, much to Harry’s dismay.  If they were discovered the evidence for it is in none of the information he has at hand.  That doesn’t make him feel any better about it.  In fact, the uncertainty sits heavy in his gut, like a vice he can’t find the release for.

“I’ve got a contact in the CIA digging up some more information on the file we found Lucas’ picture in.”  Roxy’s voice comes through the line, as patient as ever.  “Maybe they can give us insight on whether or not he could have actually had anything to do with their case in Russia.”  It’s not much but it’s more than Harry has right now.   “It could give us a springboard for more.”

“Until then, we are at an impasse without additional information.”  Harry says with a sigh.

“Aye.  And you won’t find anything there that we can’t find here.”  Merlin insists.  “Why don’t you go find Galahad and figure out the options you two have on that end instead?”  Logically, Harry understands that is the best course of action, so he squashes any misgivings he may personally have and, reluctantly, agrees.

Harry had left the room for only a short while earlier in the day but has otherwise been pouring over information from reports.  As each hour had passed he felt a little further on edge.  So much so that when he finally leaves this time he is balancing on a razor thin line.  When the world is too heavy, moving faster than he can keep up with, Harry slips into his familiar gentlemanly façade.  It fits him like a glove, better than any of his suits, and wraps around the chaos of his mind like a cocoon.  As he walks he pulls himself up straighter, working out the remaining tension in his shoulders until he’s almost convinced himself he’s just walking through the hall on a normal afternoon.  Not a damn thing is wrong.

 

As he approaches the patio off the dance hall where Eggsy sits, watching the docks for Duncan to return, Harry realizes that without saying a word he’s already more rigid than he’s ever been around the young man.

He hates it.

But it is the best he can do.

Eggsy sits on the low wall that separates them from the cliffs beyond, feet out towards the ocean and pretending to read the book he has used as a cover all week.  He has a blossom of soft purple on his neck that Harry has to force himself not to reach for, holding his thumb tightly in his fist, down at his side.  The rasp of paper sliding against paper when Eggsy occasionally turns the page is the only sound blending with the soft break of waves from far below.  Harry stands just at his side, staring out at the ocean where the sun is slowly approaching the horizon.

“Are we completely screwed?”  Eggsy asks without looking up.

Harry hums.  “Not entirely sure just yet.  But it would behoove us to plan for the worst.”

There is a tension between them, in the flat tone of their words that Harry has never experienced with him before.  “Lucas hasn’t left his room all afternoon.  And I know he didn’t take his shirt off because the signal has at least been moving around every once in a while.”  Eggsy continues turning his pages. “Their confrontation seemed genuine enough, and they couldn’t have known I was watchin’.  But something still feels real off.”

Which is a good enough reason to cut their losses and move on.  “Perhaps it’s time we push forward, play our hand, as it were.”

“I should go ahead and see if I can get that journal then, yeah?  I’ll wander down to their room, splash some tequila on like perfume and then fall through his door when he opens it.  Put Lucas down for a bit, then crack the safe.”  Eggsy pauses, hands falling lax in his lap with a single finger keeping his book held open wide.  “That way no matter what we can just get this whole fuckin’ farce over with.”  The way he bites off the last part of his statement stings, and he still hasn’t looked at Harry.

Harry turns and leans back against the barrier, hands in his pockets and ankles crossed.  “Agreed.”  He says as evenly as he can manage.

He’s not looking at Eggsy, but he hears the snap of his book close and the way he clears his throat.  Then he sighs, and still doesn’t say anything.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”  Harry points out suddenly, unable to stand the silence so tense between them.  “I heard you come in this morning.” That had really been Harry’s breaking point.  Hearing Eggsy come through the door, just barely able to make out the sound of the latch releasing.  He had taken a moment to try and gather his thoughts, to put into words what he needed to tell Eggsy that he hadn’t been allowed to say the night before.  But then the door had opened and closed once more, Eggsy gone again.  He had taken with him any last shred of calm Harry had left.

When he glances over at Eggsy, the younger man is still looking away, shaking his head.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I uh.  Sorry I’m just – I can’t…“  He trails off and Harry can’t pin down what is coming through in his tone.  It is shaky, at its core, but Eggsy seems to be holding something back.  He spins around and hops down to his feet, but Harry stops him from having to explain himself.

“You don’t have to talk about it, of course.”  His mask of controlled calm is firmly set in place, holding his own heart at arm’s length.  What he says next still hurts, no matter how much he tries to protect himself.  But he has to give Eggsy an out, even if it’s killing him.

“We can always just leave it here.”

Eggsy goes still, his sigh turning into a terribly unamused, forced laugh.  “Right.”  He throws his hands up as if in defeat.  “Don’t know why the hell I ever expected anything else.”

Harry feels something twist in his gut, it pulls and tugs at the frustration there until he has to force himself to remember to breathe.  Eggsy had made the rules and set their pace. He had been the one to decide when those rules changed.  Harry had been happy to be brought along, loved every minute, and he deserves a little more than to be held up to an arbitrary standard he wasn’t even aware existed.

The sharpness of his own voice is double edged, cutting into his own sense of control. “And just what, exactly, had you expected of me?”

Eggsy makes a sharp inhale.

Then he turns, and _finally_ faces Harry.

And Harry’s heart falls heavy through his chest, landing in the pit of his stomach like an anvil.  He realizes with a jolt that last night had not been the problem.  Far from it.

No.

 _This moment_ is the mistake, his words and his anger, how blind he’s been.  How he ever let Eggsy think he was anything less than head over heels in love with him.

Because Eggsy looks shaken, resigned, lips trembling on the cusp of being completely broken.

“You know I watched you die?”  He begins, soft and quiet.  “You were dead.”  He shrugs like he is trying to convince himself it isn’t a big deal.  “But then you wasn’t and I didn’t know.  And, fuck, I cried so much Harry.”  Eggsy breaks out into a thin lipped, wide and miserable smile.  He avoids eye contact again.  “Because I fuckn’ loved you.  And yeah, maybe it was puppy love or what the fuck ever you want to call it at first.”  With a shake of his head Eggsy runs his fingers through his own hair.  “But it took nuthin’ at all to be something’ real.”

It’s hard to make out what Eggsy says near the end, the past tense of his words ringing painfully in Harry’s ears.  He swallows, shaken.  “Loved?”

“Yeah.  Fuckin’ loved.  Did love.  Have loved.  Still – and god help me probably always will – love.  ‘Cause I can’t figure out how not to.  I have tried.  For _so_ long.”

His face starts to get tighter with anger, lips pursed and brows knit close.  Eggsy’s voice gets steadily louder with each new thought.  “So you wasn’t dead and you didn’t tell me.  Had other people _LIE_ to me.  Suddenly, when you were back, I didn’t trust you and that fuckin’ hurt.  But worse than that?  Was realizin’ you don’t fuckin’ trust me.  That I’m not important enough to be told the truth.”  He’s practically yelling now and Harry feels absolutely helpless.  Like anything he could possibly offer would only seem as an appeasement.  “And _every day_ since you came back I see more and more that I will never be that important for you.  Every time I think you’re letting me in you push me away again.”  The anger vanishes, replaced with sorrow, regret.  He drags both hands down his face.  “And it’s almost worse than losing you ever was.”

Harry closes his eyes and tries to keep himself together.  He takes a deep breath to try and say something, anything that will come to mind to fix this, to put back together what he ripped in half with his careless words.  Eggsy keeps going before anything comes out.  “But I coped.  I fuckn’ soldiered on because I couldn’t stand not havin’ you in my life even if it wasn’t everything I wanted.  ‘Cept now I know what that could feel like.  How your hands make me so fuckin’ weak.  Then – this _fucking mission_ – I had to go and ruin everything.”

His skin feels too tight, chest heavy as if he’s being crushed.  Harry shakes his head, bites his lip.  Then he forces himself to speak.“Oh, Eggsy.  How is it ruined?  How could you possibly think…”

“How could I think what?  That because I couldn’t keep my hands to myself I’ve royally fucked up any hope I ever had at being content with whatever the fuck we were?  Because I’m not stupid enough to think that one phenomenal shag is going to magically make you realize you love me.  Especially since you shut down and shut me out, just like you _always_ do, the first damn chance you got.  Before I got to say _anything_!”  He huffs a sarcastic laugh, shaking his head.  “And anythin’ less than that is - well, it’s not enough for me anymore.  So.”  Eggsy holds his hands out and shrugs, the pain in his face reflected ten fold in his voice.  “In answer to your question, I don’t expect nuffin’.”

His world is spinning around him and Harry has to fix this.  He has to fix this now or he is going to fall to pieces.  “Eggsy, _please_.  You don’t understand.”  Harry takes a step forward, towards Eggsy.

But Eggsy holds his hands up.  “Stop.”  And steps away from him.  “Just – just fuck off, Harry.”

Everything seems to crumble around him as he watches, feeling strangely helpless as Eggsy turns and walks away.  Harry is never helpless, he stands up, fights for what is right and what needs fighting for.  Harry Hart doesn’t give up. He can fight for this. He just has to take the step forward.

Go after him.

Get him to listen.

“Arthur.”  The second he takes his first step, Roxy breaks through, sounding as regretful as he feels.  His chest rises and falls with the heaviness of trying to maintain his composure.  He closes his eyes, doing everything he can to control the tremble in his lips.  In his hands.

In his heart.

“Let him go.  You _can_ fix this when you both come home.  Right now, you need to look at the docks.”

Harry slowly turns and wipes the moisture from his cheek.  Down in the water, just pulling into moor is Duncan.

He looks back to catch Eggsy just turning around the corner and out of sight.  Harry clings to the subtle reassurance in Roxy’s words and does everything he can to focus on the job at hand.

For the first time in his life, he’s not entirely sure he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of my love for my beta, [stainedglasscurtains](http://stainedglasscurtains.tumblr.com). This fic would not be what it is today without you.


	15. Day Four: 1910

Eggsy can’t breathe.

His head is swimming, chest knotted up and tight in the way that can only be released by truly letting everything go all at once.  But he couldn’t do that in front of Harry.  He had already been giving everything else away, Eggsy at least held onto that much of his dignity.

But he’s not in front of Harry any longer.

And Eggsy has zero strength left with which to hold himself together.

Fuck Harry.  Fuck him and his distant air, his sarcastic way of avoiding anything important and claiming its only good manners.  Fuck the way he knows literally everything about Eggsy, but Eggsy can’t claim to know even half that much about him.  Fuck his laugh and the stupid way he blinks.  Fuck the kindness in his eyes and the unashamed strength laying just beneath a very deceptive surface.  Fuck the way he smirks when he’s showing off.  Fuck his hands and his heart and the way he kisses like Eggsy is the only person in the entire world.  Fuck everything he loves about him.

God, Eggsy is royally fucked.

He finds himself near one of the smaller pools, empty this time of day since it’s not on the side of the island that sees the sunset.  Eggsy takes off his glasses to keep the tears from pooling up beneath the rim, finds a soft lounger to sit down on and allows himself – if just for a bleak moment – to break.

There isn’t a lot of time to spare, and he is painfully aware of that.  He is also aware that he is going to have to find a way to push through this.  Not just for today.  But from now on.  Maybe now that he has gotten it all out in the open, ripped off the band aid and realized he’d been right all along, maybe now he could move on.  It is going to fucking suck, and he knows he’ll be rather pathetic and miserable for a while.  But he can do it.

Maybe.

Eggsy’s not convinced, the pain he’s currently feeling is so strong and intense that in the moment it’s impossible to even remember what it’s like to not feel it.  Or even imagine living without it.

Inhaling a shaky breath, Eggsy wipes his face, though it doesn’t really help much.  Despite the tremor in his hands and the way he feels scattered on the ground, he knows his best bet right now is to get his mind off of Harry as fast as possible.

With tear streaked cheeks, Eggsy replaces his glasses.

A small, flashing red light immediately takes his attention and before he has a chance to properly collect himself he realizes Lucas is heading right for him.

Eggsy realizes too late that there is no way to recover as fast as he needs to.  So despite every last bit of his heart screaming inside, crying out to leave well enough alone, he decides to use it to his advantage.

_Fuck, this is a terrible idea._

“I thought I saw you wander by.”  Lucas is still behind him when he begins to speak, walking up slowly while Eggsy keeps himself facing forward, shoulders slumped.  He is, however, aware enough to know Lucas is already lying.  Five minutes ago he had still been in his room and Eggsy hasn’t been on that side of the resort all day.

Eggsy looks up when Lucas is finally standing in front of him and gives him a shaky, sullen smile.

“Shit.”  Lucas drops his easy smile instantly.  “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s had an awful day.”  He’s in the same casual clothes as earlier, though a bit more rumpled, and has a tall, half-full glass in his hands.  Some minty cocktail Eggsy can faintly smell from where he is.

“Well, you’re not wrong.”  Eggsy concedes.

Without another word Lucas takes a seat directly next to him, close enough their shoulders are pressed together.  They sit in silence for a long while, much like earlier in the day.  When Lucas quietly nudges him, Eggsy looks over, sees something like concern in his features (though likely contrived) and sighs.  “Let’s just say that, despite what you suggested the other day, some things are better left unsaid.”

Lucas blinks twice before understanding dawns.  “Oh.  Yeah.  Sorry, man.  I guess I’m not the best to be giving advice.  I did fall in with a man who whisked me away from six straight months living as a broke Uni student in a country where I didn’t really know anyone.  My feelings for him were never very complicated.”

Two lies in less than five minutes is kind of Eggsy’s limit.  But at this point he is curious how much more he can get out of him.  Hand still actually shaking, he palms at his pocket, checking to make sure his tiny vial is still there.  Hopefully he’ll be able to get back to the room and have Lucas unconscious shortly thereafter.  “It wasn’t _bad_ advice really.  It just…”  Eggsy sniffs.  “Just wasn’t right for me.”

Lucas considers him a moment, Eggsy watching the way he’s being studied out of the corner of his eye.  Then he holds out his cocktail with a smile – his cocktail that he has yet to drink from this entire time, not to mention there isn’t a hint of mint on the man’s breath.  “You look like you need a drink.”

Eggsy waves him off.  “Nah.  Probably not the best idea given that I’m still stuck on this island with him for the time being.  Wouldn’t want to do anything stupider than I’ve already done.”

“Suit yourself.”  Lucas nods with a grin and brings the glass up to his own lips.

But he still doesn’t take a drink.

Now Eggsy knows they’re both playing the same dangerous game.

Finally he has something akin to solid ground beneath his feet.

Lucas seems to hesitate, glass lingering at his lips, but then he lowers it again, taking a deep breath as if he’s had a sudden idea.  “You know what we should do?”

“What’s that?”

He throws his arm around Eggsy’s shoulders and leans in close, a playful smile on his lips.  “Dunc’s knocked off to Santorini proper for a while, something about better connection to the real world.  We should lock ourselves in my room, get completely trashed,” he comes even closer, making a shiver of disgust roll down Eggsy’s spine when he feels his breath along his neck.  “And keep ourselves entertained.”

Eggsy hesitates on purpose – though he knows he’s going to say yes.  “I don’t know.  What if Duncan comes back? I’m going to guess he wouldn’t like that very much if he’s still in a mood.”

“Then we can tell him to go fuck off with Marcus.  They seem to enjoy each other’s company.”

He makes a show of considering it, like he’s still not convinced until Lucas shakes his shoulder and winds up spilling his drink –

All over Eggsy.

It’s on his neck and soaking his shoulders, running beneath his shirt down his chest.  It’s ice cold and every drop is already leaving a light tingle and goose flesh in its wake.  He makes a sharp inhale at the sudden sensations and Lucas jumps up.  “Fuck!  Shit.  I’m sorry.”

Eggsy stands as well, pulling the fabric of his shirt away from himself in order to shake the ice out.  He forces himself to laugh.  “You know, if I didn’t know any better I would say you did that on purpose.”

The look of concern is replaced immediately with a smile Eggsy would almost call coy.  Lucas lightly bites the tip of his index finger then points it at Eggsy.  “Then it’s probably a good thing you don’t know any better.  Isn’t it?”

With another forced laugh Eggsy nods.  “I take it you’re about to offer me help cleaning up?”

Lucas puts a hand over his heart.  “You see right through me.”  He slips his arm around Eggsy’s dry one so their elbows are hooked together and begins leading him back towards the buildings.

“I was going to say yes, you know.”  Eggsy offers with a much flatter tone and less of his façade of innocence.

For his part, Lucas seems to be at about the same point.  “Oh, I am well aware.”

They make the tense walk to Lucas’ room in complete silence.

When they do get there, and Lucas gets the door open, the fun really starts.

Lucas uses his hook on Eggsy’s arm to spin him around and shove him hard, chest first against the door, using the force of his body to slam it shut.  He has his own elbow pressed to the center of Eggsy’s back and one arm thoroughly twisted in his grasp.

“You should have listened to me when I told you I was no saint.”  There’s still humor – amusement even – in the growl of his voice but it is much darker now, any trace of friendliness vanished.

Eggsy just laughs.  “You think I wasn’t listenin’?”  He hooks his ankle around one of Lucas’ then throws his head back to slam against his captor’s.  The hook at his ankle catches Lucas off guard and he begins to tilt backwards just enough so Eggsy can spin free of his grasp.  “I am always listening.”  Normally he would have a cheeky grin on his face.  But he’s tired, mentally exhausted, and just wants to get this fucking thing over with.

Somehow Lucas recovers before falling completely, spinning and catching himself with a graceful and practiced movement that makes Eggsy groan.  This is not going to be easy.

Eggsy takes the split second advantage of Lucas regaining his stance to charge in for the punch but Lucas drops his shoulder back and grabs Eggsy’s arm, using his momentum to keep him going forward.  To keep from falling, Eggsy goes with it. The second he knows he isn’t going to make contact, kicks up to leap onto the coffee table and pivots around on the balls of his feet for his next strike.

But Lucas moves fast, sweeping his arm around to catch Eggsy behind the knees and send him crashing down.  He hits hard and it’s going to leave quite a bruise on his ribcage.  Eggsy rolls immediately despite the pain to avoid the foot heading straight for his head.  “So did you get talked into being one of the bad guys with sex and money or was it more of a pre-packaged bad boy, boy toy all rolled up into one kind of deal?”  He asks, picking himself back up.

“I’m the complete package, baby.”  Lucas ducks Eggsy’s next advance and has to go on the defense, but there is no doubt he’s enjoying every minute of it.  “Right hand man.”  He pivots around Eggsy to try and get him off balance.  “Body guard.”  He back tracks at the last second, while out of Eggsy’s line of vision and fast enough he manages to get his arm around Eggsy’s neck and throws him to the ground.  “Personal hit man.” He’s on him instantly, pinning Eggsy down, one hand around both wrists and an elbow at his throat.

“And occasionally,” Lucas leans in close, breathing heavy and with a cocky grin on his face.  “The one who has to get his hands dirty.”

For Eggsy that completely explains the image of him in Russia.  If he’s trained – which Eggsy is painfully aware he is _very well trained_ – that means he was either trained there or was doing a job there before being sent to Whitehall.  The way he fights, Eggsy is leaning towards trained there.  “I see.  So he _is_ paying you to fuck him then.  That’s one point for me.”  Eggsy chokes out.  The elbow at his throat pushes down tighter as the look in Lucas’ eyes sours.

He’s starting to see spots and there is a tingling sensation in his fingers and toes.  It’s familiar, and he can’t place it.  But he is at least aware that the spots are the only thing that has anything to do with his lack of oxygen.  He needs to get up and he needs to get up right fucking now.

Luckily, Eggsy’s constant training means he’d never lost that gymnast level flexibility.  He jerks his lower body and brings his legs up, wrapping his ankles around Lucas’ neck.    

Since he’s obviously not a complete idiot, Lucas doesn’t fight it when Eggsy starts pulling him back, allowing himself to – surprise surprise – move with the direction of Eggsy’s force.  His intent is to put him in a choke hold but Eggsy’s legs don’t seem to have the strength they usually do. He’s also still having trouble catching his breath, despite his airways being open again.  Lucas breaks free easily and Eggsy’s in trouble and they both know it.

Both men roll away from each other to stand once more.  A few more minutes of back and forth and Eggsy subtly tries to move them so that he’s between Lucas in the door – you must always recognize when the best choice is to fucking bolt.  But it’s not until he takes a punch that he absolutely sees coming that he somehow can’t move fast enough to avoid, that he realizes what is happening.

His glasses go flying and it takes him longer than normal to recover.

It’s his next move that does him in though.

Eggsy throws another punch that doesn’t even come close to his mark and Lucas breaks into a wide grin.  “Fucking finally.”

Eggsy’s arms feel suddenly heavier than lead and his gut twists with a sudden burst of nausea.  He’s cornered and out of options, and he’s fucking pissed.  At Lucas.  At himself.  At Harry just for good measure.

Lucas gets a tight grip into the front of Eggsy’s shirt.  “You should have taken the drink.”  He grits out, dragging Eggsy through the wreckage of a sitting room.  “Super concentrated GHB.  Takes a while to absorb through the skin and it’s not going to knock you unconscious through that method.  But it will get you close enough that I can.”

The last thing Eggsy sees is a fist coming toward his face and he thinks, _fuck this day.  Fuck it right in the arse_ – just as everything goes black.  

 

 


	16. Day Four: 1945

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my endless appreciation for my beta reader, [stainedglasscurtains](http://stainedglasscurtains.tumblr.com). Really can't do this without you anymore!

The hole that his anger left when it was wrenched from his chest is slowly filling with a kind of regret that Harry is entirely unfamiliar with.  He has, of course, experienced regret before – more often than he’d like to think about.  But this is the kind that scratches and stings, tearing his soul apart piece by piece with the absolute certainty that this is entirely his fault.  That by attempting to protect his heart he had done more harm than good, not only to himself and Eggsy but to everything they were or could be together.  Harry has always been in such control of that aspect of his life that he hadn’t even once considered that he could be so utterly wrong.

Even though there is a tiny tremor in his hand and a lump in his throat Harry holds his position, watching Duncan from a dark corner of the patio, just out of sight.  Every single instinct he has is screaming at him to go after Eggsy and it is physically painful to ignore.  What hurts worse is the knowledge that Eggsy is entirely correct.  Harry, even if he had never consciously intended to, had kept him at arm’s length and side stepped every attempt the young man had made at being closer.  And Harry is slowly realizing there had been many attempts, though they had become less frequent with time.

There had been curious inquiries – innocent enough – that Harry usually diverted.  Invitations were made to meals or small family affairs that Harry would often politely decline.  Not always, he does immensely enjoy Eggsy’s company after all and there’s never really been any way to deny that.  He’s also rather fond of his mother – who has come to tolerate Harry at the very least – and his baby sister, who is quite possibly the most precious four year old Harry has ever met.  But despite that, more often than not, he would make his apologies and return home.

Because his home – empty, with no one to worry over and no one to lose – had always been the safest option.

Though considerably more of an empty life.

At the docks Duncan finally fastens the last of his ropes and hops from the deck of his boat to the platform.  He lingers there, pulling his mobile to his ear and staring out at deep oranges and fading pinks of the sunset over the water.

Harry’s attention is split, watching Duncan while his mind races with ways to fix his problem.  To put back together what he had torn apart.

 _I_ ’ _m sorry._  Would be the logical start.

 _I am an idiot._  Comes in a close second and would probably get a reluctant smile from Eggsy.

What he will probably start with, however, is:   _I’m sorry THAT I’m an idiot._  It is the most accurate, after all.  He has not only been an idiot but he has been blind as well.  And the realization that his level of ignorance and selfishness has caused Eggsy so much pain makes Harry feel about two inches tall.  There is so much he has to make up for, and it is killing him that he can’t start right this second.

But Duncan begins moving again, heading towards the stairs that lead to where Harry is.  He breathes a sigh of relief.  All that is left now is distracting Duncan long enough for Eggsy to complete what they had spoken about before and for someone to let Harry know the journal is in hand.  Then they can finally leave here and –

Harry’s thoughts are interrupted by the soft crackle of his earpiece.

And then…

“Galahad is down.”

Everything around Harry slams to a halt.

His thoughts all stop, lungs cease taking in air.

Any sounds that had been naught but background noise a moment before vanish with the white hot mixture of fear and fury that suddenly overwhelm him.

He blinks.

“Status.”  Harry demands with an exhale.

His breathing returns, but is hard to keep steady.

“Unknown.”  He realizes belatedly that it is Niviane speaking.  He hadn’t even known at first.  “He lost his glasses in a confrontation with Lucas then the last thing we saw before they were stepped on and the feed cut out was Galahad fall unconscious.”

Duncan suddenly _doesn’t fucking matter_.

Rather pointless to distract someone when the reason you are doing so is already compromised.  “Get in touch with our local contacts.”  Harry begins as he starts to move, voice calm and collected with the familiarity of work despite the way his nerves are screaming.  “Coordinate an extraction as soon as possible and let me know an ETA the moment we have one.”

“Merlin and Lancelot are already handling that.”  She assures him though it doesn’t help his mood in the slightest.

He’s moving with long, easy strides back to the building but is not fast enough.

“Marcus!”  Duncan shouts before he reaches the archways and Harry pauses to turn and face him.  There are a few other guests near enough that when Harry spots the Glock in his hand, held down discreetly at his side, he very reluctantly decides not to put up a fight.

For the moment.

The smile he’s given is full of nothing but malice.  “What are the odds that I would find you here?”

Harry stands a little straighter, rolls his shoulders back and uses the way his heart is racing to fuel the carefully held mask of violent calm.  “Oh, fairly high, I would imagine.”

They are at a standstill, neither moving, both men watching the other with cold calculation in their eyes.  “Why don’t we go out for a stroll, maybe do a little star gazing out on the water?  The sun will set soon and they’re quite beautiful out in the middle of nowhere.”

Harry shakes his head.  “Unfortunately there is somewhere else I should be at the moment.  Perhaps a rain check.”

Duncan drops all pretense and scowls.  “Afraid I’m going to have to insist.”

Harry is not in his suit.  He’s also at just the right distance that he can easily be shot before he gets away, but not close enough to make a move without also getting shot.  He’s been in this situation before and the thought nearly makes him ill.  Since he is convinced there’s not enough luck left in the universe for him to survive a point blank twice in as many years, he does what he is told.

They make their way back down the steps in complete silence while Harry works over time to control his fear.  Not for himself, but for Eggsy.  Duncan maintains the set distance between them with practiced ease which tells Harry more about him than any file or conversation ever has.  He’s known for years the man is a genius, but that wouldn’t account for this.  This says he’s been at least partially trained in the rules of close quarters combat.

Never get too close to someone who could have the skills to disarm you before you know what happened.

At the water Harry is guided away from Duncan’s boat towards a motorized one of about equal size.  The keys are already in it and waiting so Duncan commands Harry to kneel on the bow.  Then – still keeping his gun pointed right at Harry – he releases the loose ropes and takes the wheel.  He is surprisingly capable of focusing on Harry while operating everything else with one hand.

Slowly they leave the dock and the island far behind.

“Are we going to take a night swim?”  Harry deadpans.

Duncan’s scowl breaks and he laughs.  “Well, that really depends on how you answer my questions now, doesn’t it?”

“So if I don’t answer correctly I what?  Go ‘sleep with the fishes’?  Rather cliché.”  His words are condescending and bitter.

With a shake of his head, Duncan smiles.  “Probably.  But it works so I don’t really question it.”

“Then what is the prize if I do answer correctly?”

Duncan shrugs and makes a noncommittal noise.  “Haven’t figured that part out yet.  Been putting my money on you being wrong.”

“Wonderful.”  Harry’s voice drips with sarcasm and the only reason he isn’t rolling his eyes is because that is something he simply does not do.  What he does do is take continuous stock of his situation.  Assessing and reassessing.  At the moment, he has two options.

Taking a dive overboard would mean swimming back to shore, which is quickly becoming a decent distance, and possibly having Duncan find him whenever he comes up for air.

Do-able.  But last resort.

No.  What Harry has to wait on is for Duncan to slip up.

And the best way to get that to happen is to get the bastard talking.

“As much as I enjoy being held at gunpoint under the stars, are you going to enlighten me as to what this is all about?”

For a moment he doesn’t answer, looking at Harry like he can’t quite figure him out.  Then he sighs.  “Where do I begin, Marcus?”  He emphasis the name, watching Harry closely.  Harry doesn’t react.  “We can start with the false pretenses you have presented yourself under.  How Marcus West doesn’t exist anywhere except on paper…”

Harry blinks with the slightest shrug of his shoulders but doesn’t say anything in response.

“You know, Lucas tried to tell me I shouldn’t trust you.  There was something he didn’t like.  Something he couldn’t put his finger on, but I didn’t listen to him.  Told him not to worry about it because I knew what I was doing.”  Duncan looks lost in thought for a moment, almost appreciative.  “I think I’ll give that boy a raise.”

Harry’s eyebrows go up in mock surprise.

“Personal bodyguard.  Best money I’ve ever spent.  Taught me a few things as well.  He’s actually in the process of handling your pretty thing as we speak.”  Harry want’s to punch the slimy grin he gets right off his face.

Rage boils up again in Harry’s stomach and he can’t hide the dark look that crosses his own features.  Duncan sees it, and his grin widens into a smile.  “Get to the point.”  Harry nearly spits out.

Duncan sighs again and shakes his head.  “We need to talk about the audacity, not to mention the idiocy of stealing from me the same day I brought you in on such a lucrative deal.”

“Steal?”  Harry scoffs.  “How on earth could I have stolen anything from you, Duncan?  I have quite clearly been on this island since we ran into you checking in and I doubt you are daft enough to carry anything valuable enough to kill for on holiday.”

Duncan finally cuts the engines and they begin to drift in the open water, the only light is that of the last sliver of sunset.

“I don’t know how you did it.”  He concedes.  “Or how many people you have working for you.  But one of them, at the very least, isn’t as good as they claim to be.”  He makes his way out to the bow where Harry is still kneeling, waiting.

“Everyone who works for me is exactly as good as I expect them to be.”  Harry says with complete honesty.

Slowly Duncan makes his way closer to Harry, barrel of his gun coming into contact with his left temple.  It sends thousands of terrifying pinpricks down his spine and his chest clenches, but he doesn’t visibly react.

“I wonder if that’s true.  If that pretty boy of yours is just as good as he looks like he’d be.  Maybe we’ll skip the questions, put a bullet in your head and I’ll go find out myself, huh?”  He kneels low, sneering at Harry.  “What was it that you called him?”

Harry freezes.

“Oh, that’s right. _Eggsy, please_.”

Harry’s blood runs ice cold and he looks at the other man with the most dangerous fury in his eyes.

_Right.  That’s quite enough of that._

He ducks to the right and snaps his head forward into Duncan’s.   The gun goes off, the sound of it firing an explosion in his ear that leaves the whole world ringing.

While Duncan sways Harry grabs the gun by the slide, keeps it pointed away from him and releases the tension to give it a quick tug so that it slips apart into two pieces.  The lightning flash movement has him turned slightly away from Duncan so he comes back full force with an elbow to the bastards face.

But Duncan is tougher than he looks and takes it, rolling back to try and pull himself to standing.

Harry is having none of it.

With the cold calculation of pure rage he moves, bringing himself to his own feet in an instant and on the attack.  His heart is pounding in his chest, pulse racing with adrenaline fueling every motion.  A few blows and he could have him unconscious.

But Harry wants it to hurt.

Which is his one weak point.

Duncan never gets in a single blow despite how he tries.  Harry will not admit how much he enjoys letting the man think he’s about to get the upper hand just to kick it out from beneath him.  But eventually he manages to avoid the heel of Harry’s hand smashing upwards into his nose by tipping himself over the side of the boat and straight into the water.

“Fuck.”

Harry doesn’t bother looking, doesn’t bother checking to see if he ever comes to the surface.  Without hesitating he grabs the two pieces of the dismantled gun and puts it back together, sticking it in the waistband of his trousers.  He hops back over to the wheel and brings the engine back to life.  In less than a minute he’s skimming along the surface of the ocean at full speed, heading straight for the island.

His heart is running faster than the engines are, the ringing still loud - almost deafening - in his ears and fear clutching at every inch of his skin.

The mission was never to take out Duncan.  But the man can float out here and rot for all Harry cares.

He just needs to get back to Eggsy as fast as he can.

 

 


	17. Day Four: 2115

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My eternal gratitude to [unwin-hart](http://unwin-hart.tumblr.com) who is wonderful and amazing and provided the translation for this chapter.  
> And as always, [stainedglasscurtains](http://Stainedglasscurtains.tumblr.com). The greatest beta a girl could ask for.

Two.

Four.

Six.

Eight.

Ten.  Ten toes.  Ten fingers.  All limbs present and accounted for.

Two eyes that are picking up light but he can’t bring himself to open yet.

One splitting fucking headache.

Eggsy just barely keeps himself from groaning, aware enough of his situation that he knows making a sound is probably a really shitty idea.  When he thinks about it, whatever got him here was probably a really shitty idea too.

He most likely came up with it all on his own to boot.

_Idiot._

Something soft binds his wrists behind his back and his ankles as well.  With a small shift of his body against the bed he realizes he doesn’t have any of his gear.  His shoes are gone, wallet, watch, ring, glasses – everything.  When he thinks about his glasses a jolt of pain shoots through his head and he has to bite his lip to not make a sound.  There are tears already welling up in his still shut eyes.  With a few deep, controlled breaths the stabbing sensation slowly begins to dissipate, though not enough that he dares opening his eyes yet.

The pain also brings with it images of a fight, of feelings of frustration and helplessness.  He has to fight down a surge of nausea when all of his memories of the last – fuck how long has it been?  He thinks back to his fight with Lucas, realizing he had been drugged, the sickening sensation he’d had when he knew he wouldn’t be walking out of that room any time soon.  When had that all happened?  How?

Oh yeah.  The drink.

_Man.  Fuck this guy._

Eggsy attempts to move again, just a bit to see if he can.

When he almost vomits he decides moving can wait a little while longer.

Muffled sounds from somewhere beyond where he is laying reaffirm his decision to remain silent.  It also means he is going to have to find a way to push himself through the nausea and get himself out of this.  Then he needs to find Harry.

Fucking hell.

He remembers the entire shite evening now, all the words and arguments, not just with Lucas but with Harry too. Right now though none of that matters, because he’s got no idea where Harry is or if he’s safe.  And fuck it all, he loves him and he’s pissed and hurt as hell but he still desperately needs him to be okay.

And that sudden, overwhelming fear trumps absolutely everything else.  It’s more important than his own broken heart, than his own shitty situation.  It forces itself through the nausea and the pain throbbing in his head.

Before he can act on it, or do anything else that will lead to his escape, he hears the sounds of footsteps and he assumes it is Lucas walking through the suite.  Eggsy goes deathly still.  He barely breathes, putting everything he has into maintaining the appearance of deep unconsciousness.  

More light filters through his eyelids followed by a shrill sound of a mobile phone that almost makes him give himself away it punches through his head so hard.  

Lucas, and that is certainly Lucas, curses and leaves the room, the light disappearing as he slides the door almost all the way shut.

Eggsy opens his eyes.

When he doesn’t immediately cry out in pain he says a quiet thanks to the universe that the light that had been bleeding through his lids earlier had been coming from behind him.  It isn’t perfect, but nowhere near as bad as it could be.

“Yeah?”

He doesn’t know if he’d done it on purpose, but the door is closed enough that Eggsy would hear Lucas coming long before he got close enough to see into the bedroom.   

"Нет. Он разбирается со вторым"

Eggsy curses his luck in every language he knows which, unfortunately, does not include fucking _Russian._

"Я не могу"

Yet.

"Потому что он никогда не давал мне долбаный ключ"

Eggsy had learned French (poorly) in primary school and some of his teen years and picked it up easily enough again when he joined the Kingsman.  Spanish had followed.

"Ну, когда он очнется, я спрошу у него"

And he’s currently knee deep in Japanese lessons when he’s not getting the fucking shit beat out of him on missions.

"Заговорит"

But no fucking Russian.

"Все они заговаривают"

Eggsy may not be able to understand what Lucas is saying exactly, but he can sure as hell hear the tone in his voice and he knows that his own outcome isn’t looking very good at the moment.  He takes a deep breath to prepare for more pain in his head and slowly moves, arching his spine and bending his legs so that he’s curling backwards.

It hurts like hell, but thankfully not as much as he had expected it to.  He breathes a sigh of relief when he manages to close the distance between his hands and his ankles and is able to slip his fingers into the fabric binding them together.

"Да"

Untying himself without seeing would be difficult no matter what.  Add in how much he’s trying to control the pain that has pretty much taken over every inch of his body and Eggsy is surprised when he begins to actually feel it start to loosen.

"Этот очень хорош. Необыкновенно, я бы сказал. Но второй немолод. Похоже, один - мозги, другой - мускулы. Дункан собирался убить его, поэтому...  блять. Я не знаю. Они еще не вернулись".

Lucas doesn’t sound worried as much as he’s actually attempting to appease whoever he’s talking to.

But apparently who ever that is crosses a line.

"Я не стану его убивать! Я же сказал - "

His voice goes tense just as Eggsy gets the binds completely free from his ankles.  In the other room Lucas hits something – hard – and Eggsy’s heart lurches in his chest, a small surge of pain rolling through his spine as fear grips him that Lucas may return. It is no longer stabbing, more of a slow wave.  Much more tolerable.

He holds his breath.  

"Без меня..."  When Lucas begins properly shouting, Eggsy’s attention is snapped to the slowly opening glass door. It’s moving painfully slow, the sound just barely drowned out by the fury in Lucas’ voice.  "У тебя нет ничего!"

On the other side is _Harry._

Roughed up and bleeding from more than just a few scrapes because of-fucking-course he had to _climb_ all the way up to the balcony on the third floor.  Eggsy’s got too many fucked up emotions at the sight so he chooses to focus on grateful.  (Not for the rescue – which he doesn’t need, thank you – but that Harry is here.  And Harry’s okay.)

"Ни своего человека в этом деле, ни плана! Ты бы и понятия не имел об этом всем!"

Harry doesn’t look like he’s paying Lucas’ raving any attention, immediately kneeling down to Eggsy with a single finger pressed to his own lips.

Despite his elation at seeing the man, Eggsy scowls.  Why the fuck does he feel the need to shush him?  Like he’s going to say anything right now.  Instead of untying Eggsy though, Harry starts patting him down, head to toe which just makes Eggsy’s look sour.

 _‘What the fuck?_ ’ he mouths.

But Harry doesn’t respond, not until he finally finds whatever he had been looking for anyway.  His fingers go still under Eggsy’s collar then he pulls them out, holding a small black device about twice the size of a grain of rice between his index and thumb.  His eyes are not accusing, sad maybe, but all the same Eggsy heats in shame and shuts his eyes.

Fuck.

He’d been bugged.

"Послушай! Ты - Yeah, Fuck you too!"

The sound of glass shattering has Eggsy’s eyes snapping open just as Harry releases his bonds.  He mouths ‘time to go’ then hauls Eggsy bodily to his feet.  It takes every ounce of control he has left not to blow everything and get sick right there but he manages to get outside, where the fresh air helps immeasurably with his aching head. It’s an awkward and tedious climb down for Eggsy but he only has to stop and let his body catch up twice.  Harry is hopping down easily but, Eggsy reminds himself, he hasn’t been fucking drugged.

Three levels of balconies later and they reach actual ground.  By that time his headache is only a dull throb, the nausea a gentle roll in his stomach, and the heaviness of his limbs is all but gone.  Maybe it’s the adrenaline and maybe it’s just time.  Eggsy is just glad it’s finally getting better.

They find themselves on a narrow path around the cliff but together they manage to navigate it in the dark and eventually come to a wider ledge, practically out of sight of anywhere else people might be at the moment.

The air is cold, the night lit by a half moon overhead and Eggsy knows it is far from over.  Still, he can’t take much more at this very moment.  Eggsy holds both of his hands up in the form of a ‘T’ to indicate that he needs to pause.  He needs to stop and remember how to breathe.

Eggsy falls to his knees.  There he takes as many deep breaths as he can, letting the cool air soothe his lungs and calm the slowly dying fire in his head.

He’s expecting a lecture.

A scolding of epic proportions.

What he gets pulls the Earth out from under him.

Harry steps close then comes down on his knees as well, pulling Eggsy into his arms without an ounce of hesitation and clinging to him like Eggsy is his anchor holding him to the ground.

 _“Christ,_ Eggsy.”  He says with a cracked and broken voice.

And Eggsy, heart pounding harder and unable to catch a full breath, is more confused than he’s ever been in his fucking _life._  “Harry?”  Eggsy’s own voice is shaken beyond his control.

Harry pulls back enough to look at him, to hold Eggsy’s neck with his strong and deadly hands, thumbs just brushing the edge of his jaw with the gentlest of touches.  The pristine, blank mask Harry almost always has when he’s working is nowhere to be seen.  He looks…

He looks scared.

Eggsy has chills go down his spine and he has no idea what to do with this.

“I owe you an apology far greater than I may be capable of.”  Harry says in the tiny space between them.

He swallows.  “Now?!”  Because as much as he wants to know what _the hell_ is going on, Eggsy knows they’re not through with this yet and they’ve already screwed up enough today.

“No.  Not now, unfortunately.  When we get out of this.  When we get the journal and go _home_.  Then I will do whatever it takes to make you understand.”

“I – I don’t…”  Eggsy doesn’t know whether to be mad or cry, so he shakes his head and swallows hard.  “Fine.  At home then.  Because right now we have work to do and I’ve already royally fucked up once today.”

Some of the emotion slips from Harry’s features and he seems a little more in control of himself when he nods.  “You aren’t the only one.  So we focus, regroup, and plan our next move carefully.”

“The first thing we need to do,” Harry continues, “is figure out how they knew about the break in.”

Eggsy doesn’t miss the fact that Harry’s hands are still on him.  He also doesn’t miss how grounding his touch still is despite everything.  “You didn’t get that from Duncan?”

At that Harry looks off to the side and shrugs.  “I may have over reacted when he threatened you by name in a… rather crass manner.”

“You will defend my honor to the grave, won’t you?”  The smile and slight tremor of withheld laughter that takes over Eggsy is freeing, slipping back into the easy comfort of who they are so naturally together.

“I’ve seen your honor.”  Harry smirks and shakes his head.  “It requires no defending.”

“You’re gonna do it anyway.”

“Of course.”  He says like that is the most obvious thing in the entire world.

For a moment they both stay there, watching the other, Eggsy slowly realizing that all the pieces of his heart may not be as helpless as he had thought.

“Come on, Harry.”  Eggsy stands and holds out his hand, which Harry readily takes and stands with him.  “Let’s go save the day.”

Harry nods, a small, hopeful smile brightening his face.  “Together.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all! WE HAVE JUST THREE CHAPTERS LEFT!  
>  **Translations for Lucas' conversation:**
> 
>   * “No. He’s out with the other one.” "Нет. Он разбирается со вторым" 
>   * “I can’t.” "Я не могу" 
>   * “Because he never let me have the damn key!” "Потому что он никогда не давал мне долбаный ключ" 
>   * “Well when he wakes up in another hour, I’ll ask him.” "Ну, когда он очнется, я спрошу у него" (I changed this one last minute so it may not match well.) 
>   * “He will.” "Заговорит" 
>   * “They always do.” "Все они заговаривают" 
>   * “Yes.” "Да" 
>   * “Mine is very good. Exceptionally so. But the other is old, probably the brains to this one’s brawn. Duncan planned on killing him, so… fuck. I don’t know. Neither of them are back here yet.” "Этот очень хорош. Необыкновенно, я бы сказал. Но второй немолод. Похоже, один - мозги, другой - мускулы. Дункан собирался убить его, поэтому... блять. Я не знаю. Они еще не вернулись". 
>   * “I’m not killing him! I told you – “ "Я не стану его убивать! Я же сказал - " 
>   * “Without me…” "Без меня..." 
>   * “You have nothing!” "У тебя нет ничего!" 
>   * “No in! No plan! You wouldn’t even know about any of this!” "Ни своего человека в этом деле, ни плана! Ты бы и понятия не имел об этом всем!" 
>   * “Listen! You – Yeah, Fuck you too!” "Послушай! Ты - Yeah, Fuck you too!"
> 



	18. Day Five: 0015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence and one death in this chapter, but no where near the level of canon.

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

Harry gives Eggsy a flat, unamused look.  “I had something rather more important that required my attention.”

“No.”  Eggsy leans back against the wall in the room they have hidden in for the moment and shakes his head.  “You always check.  Fire a few rounds into the water or somethin’.  Fuck!”  He runs a hand through his hair and frowns at Harry.  There is still a thread of tension between them, palabable and easy to pull at, but nowhere near snapping.

“I propose a compromise.”  Harry offers and Eggsy looks up, curious.  “Next time it happens I promise to be sure to tie up all loose ends by either checking for a pulse or ensuring my enemy is securely captured and you…”  Harry gestures for Eggsy’s offering and receives an eye roll for his trouble.

“Swear not to get fuckin’ drugged again.”  His disappointment in himself is still painfully apparent.  

“There.  See?  I knew we could come to an agreement.”

At Harry’s teasing tone Eggsy tries to hold back a laugh, but doesn’t hide it very well.   He considers that a win for the moment.  “Are you clear on everything we need to do?”

His question sobers Eggsy and he nods.  “Crystal.”

“Excellent.”  He opens the door and double checks the corridor before gesturing to Eggsy.  “After you.”

They had spent quite a while recouping and letting Eggsy recover from his brief bout of unconsciousness so that he would be as near to full capacity as possible.  He’d finally thrown up, though he admitted it was more to just get it over with and the nausea out of his system than any real need to.  It had apparently worked, as the color had started returning to his cheeks immediately.  Which had been a huge relief.

Thanks to Eggsy’s excellent memory for which room numbers still had all three keys locked in the front office they had been able to find an empty one to break into to let Eggsy shower and make a plan of attack.  They have no way of communicating with each other during the times they may have to split up, but as long as they plan for every contingency they can think of – which between the two of them is plenty – they should come out on top.

Best case scenario they get back to their own room and it’s empty.  There they can get a spare pair of glasses from their own safe.  The odds of that actually being the case of course are slim to none so they aren’t exactly banking on it.

Eggsy nods, slipping out of the room and leading the way down the hall, Harry right on his heels.  If they were anywhere else they would be hugging opposite walls and keeping constant watch in every direction as they moved.

But here they are still attempting to avoid arousing suspicions from the other guests for the moment so they must maintain at least the appearance of casual.  They walk along the corridor and up the single flight of stairs that will lead them to their room in complete silence, aware of every inch of their surroundings the entire way.

Once they arrive at the door and listen closely for a moment, the sound of something hitting the ground from inside has them both immediately on alert.  Harry holds up one finger, then two.  Plan A, version two.

They never really expected version one to be a possibility anyway.

Both men straighten and take a deep breath, Harry excited to find Eggsy’s eyes brightening up with every passing second they count down in silence.

Harry turns the handle and lets the door swing open.

Then together, they move.

Inside their room is in shambles – as they had expected – but they barely have time to pay it any mind before, also expected, Lucas comes out swinging.  He jumps into view from the bedroom, flicking a knife end over end that both Harry and Eggsy duck out of the way from.  Harry goes left, Eggsy right, and Harry engages first.  He throws his first punch purposely at half strength and narrowly avoids Lucas’ counter strike.  Eggsy holds nothing back and Lucas actually manages to keep them both at bay.  Harry is surprised to find first-hand just how skilled the young man is, even with everything he knows about him.

But Harry is presenting himself as the weaker target on purpose, keeping Lucas engaged just enough with him that he will try and take Harry out before turning his full force onto Eggsy.

Harry is the distraction.

And it is working.

They all three fight in the terrifying silence of complete focus, Harry acutely aware of every move both Lucas and Eggsy make.  He knows where they’ve been, he knows where they are.  And he knows everywhere they could possibly be next.  Lucas feints to his left more often than he should, Eggsy moves as if he’s figured that out as well.  But Lucas hasn’t caught on that they see it.

So the next time he does it, Harry puts everything he has into catching him off guard when he goes for the real punch, grabbing his fist in a bone tight grasp and kicking out to send a genuinely shocked Luas spiraling back into Eggsy.  The shock on his face is more satisfying that it probably should be.

But Harry enjoys it all the same.

Lucas is fast, and he recovers before he crashes down completely.

But he’s not quick enough that Eggsy’s lightning fast hands can’t seek out and get what they need from him in the first place.  He’s about to set up for his next attack, planting his feet in a stance that will quickly have him focused on Eggsy.

And they can’t have that.

So Harry kicks a small vase that had fallen to the ground towards himself and sets it rolling onto his toes and up to the bridge of his foot.  Without warning he sends it flying in a perfect arc that will just clip Lucas’ skull, and does so beautifully.  He doesn’t want a direct hit since that could possibly knock him out at the moment. They still need answers after all.

And he may have promised Eggsy that privilege anyway.

The impact does the trick, Lucas grabbing his now bleeding head and turning on Harry with fury in his eyes.

This time, neither of them hold back.

He’s fast, agile.  And he’s a good deal stronger than Harry – though Harry is loath to admit it.

But Harry is smarter, and much more ruthless.  More furniture breaks beneath them, the arm of the couch nearly snapping off when Lucas gets thrown onto it, a crack appearing in the wall from Harry’s head.  That one hurts quite a lot, but he keeps moving, keeps Lucas’ attention entirely on him until he sees Eggsy at the far end of the room rifling through his own wallet he had retrieved from Lucas.  He quietly slips the small white card with the soft green light at the edge into the miniscule space beneath an overturned table.

The next thing Harry does hurts his pride more than anything else.  He takes a punch and goes down, feigning a struggle to recover long enough for Lucas to stand over Harry and grab him by the front of his shirt, raring back for a knockout punch.

“Oi!  Lucas!”  Eggsy is leaning his shoulder against the door frame, still bare feet crossed at the ankles and looking seriously disappointed.  Lucas stills.  “I thought you had better manners than tha’.  Pickin’ on a poor helpless ol’ man.”

Harry, despite his current position, scowls at Eggsy.  That hadn’t been part of the plan.

“He’s hardly helpless.”  Lucas offers.  Harry chooses to take it as a compliment.

“He also doesn’t have a copy of the key to your safe, bruv.”  Eggsy holds up his wallet and gives Lucas a cheeky smirk and a wink.  “Thanks for holding onto this for me, by the way.”  He backs slowly out of the room and Harry watches the struggle on Lucas’ features as he decides whether or not he should go for what is obviously some kind of ruse.

In the end it turns out he can’t chance it and after banging Harry’s head against the ground bolts after Eggsy, who takes of running.

Harry lays there for just a moment and lets his head settle, knowing full well what a poor idea it would be to stand so quickly after such an impact.  After several breaths he slowly rolls himself to standing, grabs the white card from where Eggsy had hidden it and leaves the room.

On to step two.

As he makes his way down the hall Harry is no longer concerned with remaining unobserved as several guests have already noticed the commotion they have been making.  The state of his clothes and the bleeding gash on his temple are a bit of a dead giveaway as well.  “Is our extraction still on target?”  He asks the air, knowing full well he’ll have an instant answer.

“Yes, Arthur.”  Niviane responds.  “Twenty-two minutes.”

“Excellent.”

At each junction in the corridor he is sure to triple check around the corners, fully aware of the possibility that Duncan could have long since returned to the island.  He never sees him, but he never stops looking.

Harry makes it up to Duncan’s room, not surprised to find it jammed open.  He had been waiting out on the balcony for the perfect moment to enter earlier in the evening and had heard Lucas’ conversation.

He knows Duncan never gave him a key.

He’s also beginning to have rather strong suspicions as to what brought them here in the first place.

As cautions as ever, Harry checks the room, hand at his back and ready to pull the gun still tucked at his waist only if absolutely necessary.  The goal of this mission is a body count of zero, after all.

The moment he is sure the entire suite is vacant he goes back to the door and locks it, followed by locking the sliding door as well.

Then Harry gets to work.

With the duplicate signal card and his K-pen in hand (he’s not trying to prove anything) it is easy enough to open the safe.  A small magnet holds the pen in place and every time Harry turns the lock to the correct number a small light at the end glows bright green.  In no time at all he is pulling the door slowly open, finally revealing what they had come here for in the first place.

There, laying completely on its own in the safe and making Harry feel like he can finally see the light at the end of this god-forsaken tunnel, is the journal.  It is a leather bound book slightly smaller side to side than a standard piece of printer paper and several inches thick.  It is a tome and Harry blinks, pulling it out carefully and flipping through a few pages.  Every one of them is covered in numbers and messy notes, formulas in all the margins, graphs, charts, commentary written, scratched out and re-written, page after page.

It is a giant fucking mess but even still, Harry recognizes a certain order to the chaos.

With a heavy, relieved sigh, Harry tucks the journal under his arm and heads toward their rendezvous point as fast as possible.

By the time he reaches the rooftop he can hear Eggsy and Lucas shouting and the occasional sound of impact.

“Duncan had to go and fuck everything up by trusting you two!”  Harry can also see two moving lights off in the distance and knows they are short on time.  He climbs up the rest of the way and finds himself between the two younger men, both ragged and breathless, clothes ripped in dozens of places, small cuts and scrapes all over their skin.  Harry instantly becomes the center of Lucas’ focused rage.  “By letting you in!”  He screams at Harry.  “I told him we didn’t need anyone else, we had plenty of contacts but he is the most stubborn man I have ever met and he _liked you_.”  At that point his attention snaps back to Eggsy with a sneer and look of absolute disgust.  “ _Both of you_.”  He growls before moving again.

While Eggsy meets him halfway Harry carefully walks the perimeter of the large patch of roof they are all on, watching, waiting, looking for anyone who may be trying to surprise them.  He could lend a hand, of course. But they need Lucas to talk, not to focus only on his survival.  And having Harry loitering just at the edge of their confrontation will keep him even further on his toes.

Lucas catches Eggsy’s barefoot in his hands but Eggsy immediately flips back out of his grasp, his body bending with an elegance that Harry can’t help but admire, even in a moment such as this.

“How did you know about the break in though?”  Eggsy is barefoot, clothes torn, drenched in sweat, chest heaving with the exertion whenever he pauses to reset himself and even still, when he is in motion, he manages to make it look almost effortless.

“I didn’t.”  Harry blinks at Lucas’ confession, and it throws Eggsy off for a split second as well, taking a foot to the chest.  “I set the alarms off.  So that he would fucking _listen to me_ for once.  If you people got the software and the journal you could actually stop the whole damn thing.  All you were supposed to do was eliminate Duncan.  I’ve been too close for too long and I wouldn’t be able to get away with it.”

_Christ._

Harry’s eyes go wide.

Lucas is their client.  Lucas is their contact, their source.

_Pavus._

“So we somehow neutralize Duncan and you, what?”  Harry asks after shaking his head of the surprise, going back to his perimeter watch.

“Sell the whole thing to the highest bidder of course.”

“Of course.”  Eggsy says with a spit.

“Do you have any idea how much people are willing to pay for this?  How much governments would pay?”

The world is in chaos, held together by strings, and Lucas is trying to sell the scissors.  That, not so surprisingly, sets Eggsy off.  He gets pissed, moves faster, with more aggression and fury.  “What the fuck is wrong with you?”  Eggsy manages to catch Lucas by the middle and throw him down against the ground, knocking the wind from him.  “You’re just gonna take a fat check, and sit back and watch it all burn?”

“Damn right I am.”  Lucas laughs with a winded and raspy sound.

 _“ENOUGH!_ ” All three of them turn in shock,  Duncan appearing over the ledge on the opposite side from where Harry currently stands, a small revolver in his hand, face pinched in pure rage.  His clothes are completely dry and he’s bandaged himself up in a few places.  He looks like hell.  Harry has to drop the journal to grab his gun, but before he can move Duncan has the pistol pointed straight at him and is striding forward.  He keeps the gun focused on Harry, but looks at Lucas who has just taken advantage of the distraction to roll away from Eggsy. “You son of a bitch.  I thought…”  His voice is shaken and Lucas wavers between surprised and something that looks like distraught.  “I gave you everything!  I lo-“

“BULLSHIT!”  Lucas shouts, louder than ever and cutting him off.  “You wouldn’t even trust me with your god damned ROOM KEY, Duncan!”  He is now nothing but angry, furious, and there’s a hint of pain in his voice that Harry recognizes all too well.  “You love the idea of me.”  Lucas’ voice nearly cracks.  “Of some young, beautiful thing fawning all over you, you shitty fucking excuse for a human being.  You wouldn’t care who it was.”

“Why didn’t you just quit then?!”

“Quit?  Qu- fuck, Duncan.”  Lucas is close enough to Harry that Duncan doesn’t have to split his attention to look at them both.  They do, however, argue like no one else exists at the moment.  “I’ve worked for you for three fucking years.  People who know as much as I do don’t _quit_ you.  I was the one to be sure of that, remember!?”

The three of them are standing just close enough to each other that no one could get the advantage on Duncan without him getting a chance to fire first.  So Harry, Lucas, and Eggsy all stand almost deathly still, watching him carefully.

But then Harry tries to take a tiny step forward, journal on the ground, hands open in front of him.  “Duncan, we can…”

“You shut the fuck up.”  He grits out, returning his attention fully to Harry, hand shaking where it grips the gun.

The sound of helicopters reaches all of them and Harry looks up, briefly.

Then he glances at Eggsy who has looked over at him as well, and the fear in his eyes tells Harry that Eggsy is just as terrified as he is.  Both of them unsure of what is about to happen and worried not about themselves, but about the other.  Eggsy gives him the smallest, tiniest hint of a smile and blinks.  Harry nods in return with his own lips pressed tightly together, a silent apology for everything they’ve put each other through today.

Something shifts in Duncan’s demeanor, something darkens and goes bitter, his gaze flickering between the two of them and face going almost manic.

Everything slows, seconds stretching out impossibly long.

Duncan shifts his aim, changing from Harry to Eggsy with a wild gleam in his eyes.

Faster than he has ever moved Harry snaps the gun from his back and has it out perfectly straight, safety released and trigger pulled in less than a heartbeat….

…milliseconds after Duncan pulls his.

As Eggsy spins and falls to his knees with a curse, Duncan crumples to the ground in a heap.  Harry fires twice more without hesitation, striding straight over to him with terrifying purpose, heart intensely focused on the continuing sound of Eggsy’s cursing which means he’s still alive.

Which is the _only_ reason he doesn’t just kick the man’s body off the building and down to the cliffs below.

Harry keeps the gun pointed right at Duncan as he uses his foot to roll him over, then steps on the hand nearest the revolver on the ground. He hadn’t shot to kill instantly, that would have been too merciful for this bastard.  There’s still life in his eyes, fear.  Harry leans low, voice sharp and dangerous from the ice in his veins.  

“ _No one_ ,”  Harry begins, “threatens _Eggsy_.”  He emphasizes his name, bitter from all the times Duncan had ignored the fact that he had even had one.  “Especially a spineless sack of shit such as you, who only saw him as something pretty to look at.”  Harry stands upright once again, “Because he is _so_ much more than that.”  and pulls the trigger one last time.

To himself, voice finally losing its edge, Harry whispers.  “He is _everything_.”

And then the light in Duncan's eyes is gone, faded to nothingness with his last breath.

Harry, as promised, presses two fingers to his pulse point and, when he finds its still, nods once, satisfied.

When he looks up, attention caught by movement, he sees Eggsy, shoulder bright red and left arm held at his side, barreling straight for Lucas.  With his right shoulder he collides with him, sending Lucas to the ground once more and follows him down, pinning his arms to the ground with his knees in the crook of both of Lucas’ elbows and sitting on his chest.  Then, almost out of breath and looking furious, Eggsy brings his good hand up to Lucas’ throat and strangles his neck, just below his jaw with the curve of his fingers, holding him there until he stops struggling and goes limp.  The look of satisfaction on Eggsy face is almost exultant.

But then it wavers, as does Eggsy.

Harry makes it to Eggsy’s side just as he falls over, barely noting that Lucas is unconscious but still alive as he slides an arm around Eggsy to hold him up.  “Officially not a fan of this whole, gettin’ shot thing.”  Eggsy says with a weak grin.  “Don’t know how you do it.”  When Harry, with an apologetic frown, presses his hand to the wound on Eggsy’s shoulder Eggsy shouts with the pain.  The sound is loud and abrupt, and he instantly clamps down on it by biting his lip and grasping Harry's arm with a fierce grip.

“Not well, if you think back to the last time it occurred.”  He responds, trying to keep his voice calm enough for Eggsy to focus on instead of the intense pain he knows he is in. It's almost impossible, to pretend he is anything close to okay or calm with Eggsy's blood all over his hands.  Because he's not. He's shaken and scared, the pressure he's putting on Eggsy's shoulder holding himself together just as much as Eggsy.

Eggsy laughs.  “Oh, god.  I can disappear for a few months then, yeah?”

“No.”  Harry shakes his head, his heart pounding in his chest and hands shaking harder as every word Eggsy says goes quieter.  “No, no more disappearing for either of us.”

He’s still breathing easily enough, but the adrenaline of the night is surely fading and shock is likely not far off.

But neither are the helicopters.

Bright lights begin swirling around them, the wind picked up and swirling about as they come in close.

Eggsy looks up at the lights with his eyes squinted, frowning.  Then he looks at Harry and sighs.  “Fuck.  Harry, I’m sorry.  For everythin’.”

Their extraction team comes in fast, two helicopters, one hovering just far enough off the building for a team of about half a dozen to jump down and begin moving about the roof, several already climbing down to the building proper as the first one takes off again.  The second comes in low, several men jumping down and gathering Lucas and Duncan while two others rush to Harry and Eggsy.

“I know.”  He assures Eggsy as well as he can.  “I still have to apologize as well, remember?”

For a while all that matters is getting in the helicopter, getting Eggsy out and to safety so he can be properly taken care of.  He only lets go of him long enough for himself to be hauled up into the cabin, immediately at his side again once they are both in and seated.

“Is today over yet?”  Eggsy asks, head falling against Harry’s shoulder.  “’Cuz I am so fuckin’ knackered.”

With a quiet, exhausted laugh, Harry nods.  “Yes, Eggsy.  Today is finally over.”  Harry sighs and drops his head back against the seat, watching with tired eyes as a medic begins tending to Eggsy’s shoulder.

“You can rest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can not thank [stainedglasscurtains](http://stainedglasscurtains.tumblr.com) enough for helping me beta this, for listening to me fret over this monster chapter over and over and working with me on three short paragraphs longer than I'd ever worked on such a short bit in my life. (It wasn't really that long but it sure as hell felt like it.)


	19. Day Six: 1955

Eggsy had long ago lost track of the number of times he’s been shot at in his relatively short tenure with the Kingsman.  Hell, he’d taken a suit full of bullets before he’d ever been given the title of knight.  He had also been fucking lucky none of those bastards had shot at his head.

That wouldn’t have ended well for anyone.

There were more, after that, though none quite so spectacular.  A few times blistering hot metal had made contact with skin or a few centimeters of tissue, leaving long, streaking, pink scars as they grazed his flesh.  They hurt like hell of course, but he’d been able to mostly walk those off.

This one?  Well this one is a whole new level of fucking awful.

There’s a tremendous amount of pain hovering just beneath the drugs he can still feel swimming in his veins.  

He remembers being pissed off and operating on pure adrenaline, Lucas going limp beneath his hand, and Harry, right there as he’d fallen over.  Eggsy had been unable to keep going once he’d been clear to pause, to breathe, to break.  Harry had held him close, kept talking to him in the helicopter as Eggsy had nodded off from a mixture of exhaustion and – apparently – pretty fucking significant blood loss.  He actually remembers a lot of it.  The reassurances, the praise, the fucking pride in his words.  It had made him feel a tiny bit less like a complete fucking failure for screwing everything up in the first place.

It also – rather more importantly now that their mission is over – brings up something Eggsy is going to have to face when he finally opens his eyes.

He recognizes the fact that he is on a plane – Kingsman’s G150 if the engine sounds are anything to go by.  And he’s also still in a medical bed on the way home to recover after surgery if he’s lucky.  He’s not really hooked to anything more than a heart monitor as far as he can tell, though he’s still a bit groggy and his left side is more numb than he’s willing to dwell on, so there could be an IV there.  He’s not really ready to look yet.

His right hand, however, feels everything just fine.  There’s someone holding it, someone with long, soft fingers.  A familiar warmth beneath his touch.

Without opening his eyes he runs his thumb over the gentle curve of knuckles, and smiles, which earns him a soft gasp.

“Rox?”  He croaks out, voice like sandpaper.

“Morning, baby-boy.”  She nearly purrs, squeezing his hand in hers.  Eggsy opens his eyes then, a warmth settling over him at her relieved smile and the care in her gaze.  She looks sleep deprived but still as put together as always in a soft blue sweater and hair pulled tightly back.  “Sleep well?”  Roxy reaches up and brushes his hair back a few times before planting a kiss to his temple.

“Like the dead.”  Eggsy smirks.

Not two seconds after she kisses him Roxy punches him lightly in the arm with absolutely zero force.  “Not funny.”  She chastises, face suddenly serious.

“Come off it, Rox.  I’m hilarious.”  He tries to get her smiling again but her features just fall further and she shakes her head.

“Eggsy,” She sighs.  “You flatlined for almost an entire minute.”

That wipes the smile from his own mouth, but not the need to be less depressing.  “I got better.”  He offers with a one-sided shrug.

For a long moment she looks like she’s not sure whether to roll her eyes or punch him again.  But eventually she just shakes her head before moving in to gather Eggsy into her arms.  Her embrace is strong and solid, a comfort Eggsy swears he’s never going to give up, and clings to for as long as he can.  She’s trying not to cry and he can tell, runs a soothing hand down her back and kisses her hair.  “It’s okay Rox.  I’m fine.  I promise.”

“You better be, as long as you were in surgery.”  Merlin’s voice slowly breaks them apart and Roxy sits back in her chair.  For the first time since opening his eyes Eggsy looks beyond his best friend.  He was right, they are in the G150, small enough for just them and specially outfitted for medical transportation.  Roxy is, of course, in the chair next to his bed.  Merlin is leaning against the open cockpit door, his own relieved smile brightening his features.

In the chair opposite Roxy, still as a statue, staring out of the window at the sunset and with his hands folded tightly in his lap, one thumb tucked into his fist, is Harry.  He’s not wearing a jacket and the shirt he has on looks like it he’s been sleeping in it.  His posture and unmoving stance are the only things that are standard for him.  Harry’s hair is out of place as if it’s been brushed back with his fingers repeatedly.  There’s a tightness in the set of his jaw and his gaze is unusually distant, eyes with just a hint of red around the irises.  The sight of him has Eggsy’s heart skipping with a worry he’s not about to face with others around.

“How long?”  Eggsy asks without looking up from Harry.

“Six and a half hours.”  When Merlin answers Eggsy watches Harry visibly tense up, hands clenching in his lap.  “You were already beat to hell, had other internal bleeding they managed to find fast enough, and the bullet nicked your sub clavicle vein.  The only reason you made it to the hospital at all was because it missed the artery.”

Eventually Eggsy tears his eyes away and properly looks at Merlin who is watching him closely.  “Fuck.”  Eggsy shakes his head and Roxy squeezes his hand.  “I thought gettin’ hit in the shoulder wasn’t supposed to be so bad.”

Roxy scoffs.  “Hardly.”

“You’re lucky it was small caliber and far enough away.  The damage it did was bad enough, any closer or larger and you might have permanently lost functional use of your arm.”  Merlin’s words are even and calm but there’s a sense of relief all the same.

“Or worse.”  Roxy adds as quietly as she possibly can.

But it’s a small plane, and Eggsy watches Harry’s eyes flutter shut at her statement.

Suddenly he wants Harry next to him, to let him reach out and touch, to let him know he’s alive and well, still perfectly solid and not going anywhere.  Especially since Harry has promised him an apology and after everything that has transpired between them, Eggy is fucking desperate to hear what exactly that will contain.

“Well, did we at least get what we was after?”

That gets Roxy to smile and Merlin to sigh.  “We did.  Lucas is in custody of Interpol and the journal is in our possession, to be locked up tight somewhere.  Preferably an incinerator.  You and Harry did a beautiful job.”

“Once you got your heads out of your arses.”  Merlin grumbles.  Roxy glares at him and Eggsy drops his gaze.  Because he’s right, of course.  A lot happened that wouldn’t have if he had managed to maintain a professional demeanor the whole time. But he hadn’t, and he’d felt the consequences first hand.  He says a silent thanks to the universe that he was the one to suffer for it and that it hadn’t gone a hell of a lot worse.  Because it sure fucking could have.

Which reminds him.

“You said Lucas is in custody?”

“Aye.  Interpol picked him up shortly after you all made it to the mainland.  They have him for the time being.”  Merlin says.

Roxy nods.  “I doubt we’ve seen the last of him though.  From all the little pieces we are starting to put together he’s not only good, but extremely well connected.”

Which is terrifying, if he’s being honest, and his resolve to learn Russian as soon as possible solidifies.  But.  “What about Duncan?”

Both Merlin and Roxy remain eerily silent.

“I killed him.”  Harry says, voice as even as Eggsy has ever heard.

“What…”  Eggsy takes a deep breath and struggles to sit up straighter, fighting against the shooting pain that sparks through his entire left side.  “What the hell Harry?  That wasn’t-“

“ _Don’t_.”  Finally Harry turns and looks at him, features unreadable but stern.  He swallows heavily before continuing on.  “Don’t tell me what we were and were not supposed to do.  I am fully aware.”  He takes in a deep, shaken breath and Eggsy wishes more than ever that he was sitting at his side.  “I killed him and I would do it again.  A dozen times over if necessary.  Without hesitation or remorse.”

Eggsy can’t take this another minute, can’t stand the thread of unknown that is still entwined around and in between them.  It’s cutting into his skin and starting to burn like hell.

“Rox…” he turns to her to make a request but she shakes her head before he can say anything.

“No need to ask.”  She’s standing instantly and kissing him on the top of his head before he even realizes she had guessed exactly what he was about to say.  “You know where we’ll be if you need us.”  With one last squeeze of his hand she walks forward and grabs Merlin by the elbow, guiding him without protest to the cockpit and sliding the divider shut behind them.

The latch clicks into place with a deafening sense of finality.

They are alone and staring each other down, both in a state of suspended uncertainty as to where they really are.  Where they are about to go.

“Harry.”  Eggsy says as clearly as he can, voice not yet betraying the fears still clinging to his heart.  Harry had shown him already that every last one of them was likely unfounded.  But, well, old habits die hard.  “Come here.”  He gestures with his good arm and purposely shifts to the side to allow room on the bed, left arm still bound tightly to his side.

Harry hesitates for only the briefest of moments but does as requested, tugging at his shirt as he stands before making his way to Eggsy.  As he comes closer Eggsy sees there is not only red in his eyes, but a slight puffiness around them and a sense of fear _in_ them he’s not sure he’s ever seen there before.  He waits, holding his breath, for Harry to take the space that has been offered to him at Eggsy’s side.

When he does, Eggsy inhales, air filling his lungs with relief as if he’d been suffocating.

Eggsy thinks about reaching for his hand, to take it in his, but moves instead to brush the loose strands of hair back from his forehead then trails his fingers down the curve of his face to cup his cheek.  Harry leans into his touch as if he’s starved for it.  “Harry.”  Eggsy repeats his name, quieter this time.  Meant just for him and with a small smile and as much reassurance as he can muster.

“I’m okay.”

His heart does strange flips at the way Harry nearly collapses in on himself with a long exhale, shoulders losing their stiffness and slumping forward.  He reaches up and covers Eggsy’s hand with his own, face breaking into a sad smile that is shaken yet immeasurably relieved.  He turns into Eggsy’s hand, pressing his lips against his palm and his wrist, his kisses sending sparks of electricity down Eggsy’s arm to pool in his gut with an urgent sense of yearning.

“I told you before,” Harry begins, lowering Eggsy’s’ hand but making no move to let him go.  “That I owe you an apology.  But after all of this, after…”  He takes a deep breath and Eggsy uses every ounce of willpower he has to hold his tongue.  To have patience.  “After thinking I had lost you without ever telling you how I felt, with you still thinking that I don’t…”  Harry shakes his head.  “It was a small, insignificant glimpse at what you must have gone through and I find that – especially given how I have always cared for you even if I couldn’t admit it to myself – I find that what I did after Valentine may actually be unforgivable.  At least, I can’t begin to think of a way to ask for forgiveness.”

Eggsy shakes his head in an emphatic ‘no’.  He didn’t know.  Harry couldn’t have known, so why would he have done anything differently?  But he doesn’t argue.  Doesn’t know if he could come up with anything to argue.  “How ‘bout instead of tryin’ to, you just give me whatever you promised out on that island and we’ll start from there, yeah?”

With his lips pressed tightly together, Harry drops his head in a nod.  He’s quiet, gathering his thoughts while idly running his thumb along Eggsy’s knuckles.  Eggsy drinks in the contact, committing the heat and possessive nature of his attention to memory while he waits.

“Eggsy,” Harry begins, not yet looking up.  “There is a reason I live in that big house of mine completely alone.  It’s because I am a coward.”  Eggsy squeezes Harry’s hand, making him look up, searching out his gaze.  “Because I could not bear to be with anyone who did not know me completely, for everything I am, and understand me front to back.  No one outside our lives could do that and anyone who lives my life, our life…”

“We’re fragile.”  Eggsy offers with a tiny, apologetic smile.

“Of course not I-“

“We’re _kinda_ fragile, Harry.  And really fuckin’ reckless.”  He looks down at his own shoulder then back up.  “Likely to break your heart by doing somethin’ incredibly, _mind numbingly_ stupid.”  He’s not just talking about the physical, though he knows all too well the ache of actually losing someone, and Harry seems to understand all of that.

He nods again.  “I have been protecting myself for so long that I became blind to what that did to others.  To the ones I care about.  The ones I love.”  Harry brings one hand up to caress Eggsy’s face, to rest his long fingers behind his neck, thumb stroking the sensitive skin just below his ear.

“To you.”

Eggsy can’t really help the way his breath becomes unstable or his hands begin to tremble with the enormity of what Harry is saying.  Everything he has wanted for so long and convinced himself he could never have is right here in front of him.

Staring at Eggsy like he is the only person in the whole fucking universe.

But it is what he says next, with such surety in his voice and devotion in his eyes that shakes Eggsy’s entire fucking world.

“I love you, Eggsy.”  Harry’s face breaks into a wide, beautiful smile, as if saying those tiny words had lifted a great weight from his shoulders.  “I love you.”  He repeats.  “And it’s not just because of the other night.  Far from it.”  Harry lets out a small huff of a laugh.  “Though this week certainly contributed to the breakdown of my very old and very carefully constructed walls.”

Heart going wild, holding back tears and unable to think of, literally, anything to say, Eggsy just gives him a questioning glance.

“I didn’t have to hold back, to keep my hands to myself or stop myself from saying the little things I’ve always wanted to say.  How beautiful you are.  How amazing. I could touch you almost whenever I wanted and even though at first I felt incredibly guilty about it, it was mere hours after I first held you in my arms that I knew this whole endeavor would be my undoing.”

Eggsy tries to focus, to listen to every word but he’s a little hung up on one _huge_ thing.  “You… you love me?”  He desperately tries to swallow his uncertainty but it doesn’t seem to be going down.

And Harry laughs, a sweet and endearing sound.  “Is that all you took from everything I just said?”

Through the moisture in his eyes and the vice in his chest, Eggsy nods.  “It’s all that fuckin’ matters.” His hands have stopped shaking but the swelling in his heart is almost overwhelming.  He reaches up and mimics Harry’s hold, bringing him in close so the only thing Eggsy can see is Harry and his brilliance, the amber of his eyes, the love in his gaze.  “Because I love you, and I don’t think i'll ever figure out how to tell you how fuckin' much.”

“I think I have a decent idea.”  Harry nearly whispers as their foreheads touch and they lean into each other, supporting one another while holding on for dear life.  For a time that stretches on, a time Eggsy will never in his life be able to forget, they simply exist in each other’s space and as a part of each other’s life, sharing smiles and a single breath that is the sweetest, most enticing thing Eggsy has ever tasted on his lips.

But it’s Eggsy’s turn to laugh.

“All that’s missin’ is your white horse.”

With an amused, if confused grin and a fond sigh, Harry asks, “And just what are you on about now?”

“You fuckin’ climbed up the tower to rescue your princess, my _brave knight_.”  Eggsy says, voice dripping in both affection and sarcasm.

The hand behind his neck squeezes lightly and his entire body sings with the pressure.  “As I recall, you were in the process of saving yourself.”

“You know I think you’re right?”  Eggsy breathes, “Can I be a brave knight too?”

Harry’s smile slips away into something else, something much more needy, wanting.  “As long as you will be mine.” He says with a quiet plea.

Close enough to taste, to take and to give his all, Eggsy smiles.  “Ain’t anyone elses’ I’d rather be.”

Their lips finally meet with a silent promise, with the need to touch and be touched, to feel and to know one another like neither has offered willingly before.  It’s familiar in taste alone, desperate in tone and chaste in gesture.  There is passion just beneath the surface, second only to the desire that swims between them to simply be close, to say in no words and a dozen languages all at once - I love you.  I love you.  

I love you.  

A kiss that shouts to the heavens, you are loved.

 

_fin._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all. _Y'all!_  
>  Sorry for the southern coming through but _Y'ALL!_  
>  As I type this there are over 600 of you who are about to get an email and that just blows me away. This has been an amazing journey from start to finish and I can't thank every last one of you enough. I'm horrible about replying to responses, and for that I apologize, but they mean the world to me so thank you, thank you thank you thank you from the bottom of my filthy Hartwin trash heart.  
> A few specific thanks, to [Unwin-Hart](http://unwin-hart.tumblr.com) for the Russian translation and constant cheer leading.  
> To the little group I also consider my cheer leader's even if you didn't know it, [theartsypumpkin](http://theartsypumpkin.tumblr.com), [stilestatofry](http://stilestatofry.tumblr.com), and [theblissfulchaos](http://theblissfulchaos.tumblr.com), thank you so much. You always had kind words to offer and some of you even humored me and let me throw unfinished chapters at you because I just _had_ to share with someone RIGHT THEN.  
>  And last but not least, all of my love and gratitude to [Stainedglasscurtains](http://stainedglasscurtains.tumblr.com) who is the greatest beta I could ask for, and so sweet and kind. I genuinely don't know what I would do without you, and I _KNOW_ this story would not be what it is today without your assistance.  
>  So, this is it! All that's left is an epilogue of gratuitous smut and... and we're done!


	20. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all.

Being in a relationship with a beautiful man in his mid-twenties who is under a strict ‘no strenuous activity’ order is an exercise in willpower unlike anything Harry has ever seen.

Made infinitely worse by the fact that said beautiful man isn’t really as concerned with that order as Harry is.

It isn’t so difficult the first two weeks.  Eggsy spends a fair amount of time sleeping away his pain while in the medical wing at the estate, and almost as much once he is finally allowed to go home.  Harry stays with him as much as he can, even when Eggsy has dozed off, reading through his reports on his tablet instead of in his own office.  He takes him home personally, once Eggsy assures him that Michelle would be out.  He’s not really ready to face her completely justified wrath at her precious boy getting hurt.  Not to mention avoiding the fact that Eggsy is going to have to tell herabout _them_  sooner rather than later.  That is a can of worms for another day and another time.  Which is why he’s thrown completely off balance when she returns just after Eggsy comes downstairs after his shower and throws her arms around Harry’s neck.  He looks over her head at Eggsy, confused and tiny bit betrayed.

In return he receives smirk and one armed shrug.  “I told you she wasn’t home.  Didn’t say she weren’t comin’ back.”

“Thank you.”  She says after a moment.  “For bringing him home.”

There is still a sense of uncertainty between them, despite how much Eggsy has apparently told her (which he hopes and prays that for the moment had been relegated to the vague circumstances of his injury.)

“Always, Michelle.”

She leaves him to tend to her son, to fend off an overenthusiastic four year old and a pug that is twice as excited.  While Michelle explains to a teary-eyed Daisy that, no, you really can’t jump on your brother’s shoulders, Eggsy throws Harry a kiss and a wink on his way out.  It’s ridiculous, but endearing and Harry can’t help but love him just a little bit more.

When Eggsy is finally somewhat mobile things get a little more complicated.  Despite the fact that he’s on mandatory medical leave, Eggsy seems to be at the estate on a daily basis - in Harry’s office more often than not, and doing everything he can to distract him.  There is a mountain of work to do and all Harry can concentrate on is the way Eggsy’s’ lips slide so perfectly between his own teeth.  “You’re not supposed to do anything to get your heart rate too elevated, remember?”  He mutters into the kiss.  “Internal stitches and pieced together major blood vessels and all.”  Harry has a gentle hand at Eggsy’s hip and one in his hair, not holding tight but guiding all the same while Eggsy grasps at Harry’s shoulder.  There’s a sling around his arm, bound tightly to his side so he will move his shoulder as little as possible.  He’s sitting on the desk, _on_ Harry’s paperwork, as smug as you please and Harry had, of course, put up only a token protest.

“Yeah, but just bein’ next to you tosses that righ’ out the window.”

Harry smirks and deepens their kiss, licking into the warmth of Eggsy’s mouth, pulling an appreciative moan from his lover’s chest.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t come around me then.  Out of medical necessity of course.”  He teases him, pulling away just enough that Eggsy attempts to follow, but stops short of leaning fully forward.

He receives a disbelieving look and single raised eyebrow for his tone.  “You don’t want that any more than I do.”

“No I really don’t.”  Harry agrees with one last, chaste kiss.  With extreme reluctance he extricates himself from between Eggsy’s legs and returns to his chair, tugging the folder Eggsy is sitting on out from under his arse.  “I also don’t enjoy the idea of Merlin finding increasingly clever ways to punish me for exacerbating your wounds.”  For a moment he intends to focus on the now open folder in front of him, but sighs.  Harry promised himself he would not hold anything back with Eggsy.  He was too precious to lose because Harry didn’t know how to be fully open and honest about everything, no matter how small.

When he looks up he sees the contemplative and slightly disappointed look in Eggsy’s eyes.  Harry puts a hand on Eggsy’s thigh, gives it a squeeze, and kisses his clothed knee.  “More importantly, I will not allow myself to hurt you.  Which I could easily do with everything I want.  And I couldn’t bear that.”

His words are cautious, deliberate, and Eggsy seems to consider them a moment before smiling in acceptance.  “We still have a lot of time to make up for.”

“And plenty of time in which to do it.”  Before Eggsy can respond he adds, “ _After_ you have healed.”

There’s more half-hearted arguing, teasing back and forth that includes Harry telling Eggsy in no uncertain terms to ‘get a damned hobby’.  Eggsy’s laughter is beautiful as always, his smile magnetic, and his hands lightning against Harry’s skin.  Harry doubts he’ll ever get over his touch.  Honestly, he doesn’t intend to.

Harry is reminded completely by accident that there are a lot of important steps between ‘no activity whatsoever’ and that damned sling being no longer necessary.  He’s signing off on a stack of medical reports that he has let get far too behind when he crosses Eggsy’s file.  Everything in it is exactly as expected, the reports on his surgery, his x–rays, just as when he’d first read it.  What is new is a slip of paper with a few dates and notes scribbled on it, the latest one from just the day before reads – ‘no stress on shoulder, all other activities permitted’.

His body is already heating at the thoughts that come rushing through, and he wonders if Eggsy had understood what that meant at his checkup, or if the doctor had even really focused on it.  He doubts Eggsy knows, since they had spent long hours together at Harry’s house the previous evening and had done nothing more than a drawn out snog on his couch like a couple of teens.  It had ended with them wrapped up together and Eggsy fast asleep on Harry’s chest.  When he thinks about it, even knowing what he knows now, Harry wouldn’t trade that night for all the orgasms in the world.

Still, he makes a plan and that drives him through his work faster than usual.  He doesn’t leave any sooner than expected, but there’s a hell of a lot more completed on his desk.

He makes a quick call to ask Eggsy to meet him at his house, that he would really like a casual repeat of the previous evening.  When Eggsy complains that he needs a shower, Harry shows some of his hand by suggesting he do it at Harry’s house.  Eggsy of course agrees instantly, not bothering to hide his suspicions, but Harry keeps his lips sealed.

Which is incredibly difficult given his own level of anticipation.

By the time he makes it home and up to his room Eggsy is just turning off the water.  Harry puts away his shoes and removes his socks while he waits, then leans casually back against his bedroom door.  When Eggsy finally emerges it’s in a cloud of steam, a fresh bandage on his shoulder (much smaller than it once was) and a towel around his hips.  The late evening sun pouring through the windows picks up on the small droplets still clinging to the tight curves of his muscles and Harry’s mouth goes dry.

In the threshold Eggsy stills, eyes wide with surprise as Harry pushes off from the door and very slowly, very deliberately, begins working the buttons on his jacket.  His cufflinks go first, using just the tips of his long fingers.  Eggsy is watching every move with rapt attention, the hand holding his towel slowly clenching the cloth tighter and tighter.  He licks his lips and Harry’s eyes follow the path of his tongue, wishing it was his own.  His jacket is deposited on the dresser and when he gets close, right next to Eggsy, he slips his tie from his collar without breaking eye contact and drops it on the floor.

“Jesus _Fuck_ , Harry.”  Eggsy blinks, his breath already picking up speed.  “I thought I was comin’ over here for dinner because you was hungry.”

It’s not a complaint and Harry smiles, tilting Eggsy’s face up with a gentle touch to his chin, leaning in close to smirk against his parted lips.  “Eggsy. Darling.” he says with a purr.

“I am _famished_.”

Eggsy surges up to kiss Harry, towel forgotten on the ground next to the tie and good arm clinging to him with the other pinned between.  Harry’s kiss is wet and filthy, desperate with a need they haven’t chased down in weeks.  Eggsy is already stiffening against him, moaning into the kiss as he starts rolling his hips.  Harry slides a hand down his bare back, fingers gliding along taut muscles to grab his arse and force him to go still.  When Eggsy gasps and tilts his head back further Harry seizes the opportunity to work his mouth down the long lines of his throat, dragging teeth along the tendon at the side of his neck, sucking a mark just below his ear.

“Fuck… fuck, Harry.”  He’s writhing against, him, under his mouth and in his hands, and it all goes straight to Harry’s cock.  “What… what made you decide to, ah…”  Harry starts walking backwards, pulling Eggsy with him towards the bed.  “What made you say ‘fuck it’ to my doctor’s orders?  Not that I’m complain’, mind.”

Harry smiles as he sits back on the bed, his heart racing as he finds himself with a lap full of naked, damp, and beautifully hard Eggsy.

“I didn’t.”  He answers, running his hands up his stomach and chest.  “You need to pay more attention to your doctor.”

“I haven’t seen my doctor in a week, Merlin gave me my…”

And really, Harry can’t help but laugh, dropping his head against Eggsy’s good shoulder as the younger man curses.  “I’m gonna kill that fucking…”  Because now he knows why Eggsy hadn’t known. Because Merlin hadn’t told him.  Because of everyone Harry’s ever met, Merlin always has the most creative and sometimes cruelest ways of punishing people when he feels they need it.  No matter how long it takes him to deliver it.

“You let me worry about Merlin.”  A wave of satisfaction courses through him at the way Eggsy keens when Harry reaches between them and drags his fingers around the base of his cock.  His muscles jump and twitch as he drops his head back with a drawn out moan.  Harry watches, mesmerized.

“Fuck.  Worry about who?”

He leans forward, nipping lightly at Eggsy’s clavicle.  “No one, my darling.”

In no time he has Eggsy laid out on his bed, upper body cushioned carefully in a pile of pillows and worshiping every inch of him with his mouth and tongue.  His muscles are clenching everywhere, skin so perfectly sensitive beneath Harry’s lips.  Eggsy whines when Harry laves at his nipple, arches up into him with the way he traces the deep lines of his hips down to his thighs.  He purposely takes his time, going slow and teasing his lover until he is quivering, reaching for Harry with a tremor, fingers grasping over and over.  “Harry…” his hips arch off the bed once more as he moans Harry’s name.  When Harry looks up he goes breathless.  Eggsy’s entire body is flushed, a thin sheen of sweat clinging to his skin and his cock is full, leaking, and resting high against his abdomen.

He is a vision.

Harry slides his hands up Eggsy’s thighs, coming in close to let out a long, hot breath against his length.

“Eggsy.”  Above him Eggsy mewls.  “Hold on to something, darling.”

Time stretches on as Harry takes Eggsy apart, slowly dragging him to the edge and back again, his hands and mouth in a dance with Eggsy’s pleasure.  He swallows him down over and over, humming around his cock as it presses hard against the back of his throat.  Eggsy’s cursing becomes an incoherent string of desperate sounds.  He’s fucking up into Harry’s mouth, which Harry takes greedily, his own cock throbbing at the taste of his lover.

“Harry… Fuck, Harry…”  There’s a hand gripping tightly in his hair and a warning on Eggsy’s lips but he doesn’t need it.  He can feel the way his body is tensing, how he starts to draw up his legs beside Harry’s head.

Harry brings his hand up and presses a single knuckle in a slow, _hard_ circle against his perineum just as he takes Eggsy all the way to the base again.

Eggsy shouts Harry’s name once then goes breathlessly silent with his release, pulsing deep in Harry’s mouth.  He moans with the heavy taste on his tongue, continuing his ministrations and swallowing everything until Eggsy is whining at the stimulation.

Moments later, kissing Eggsy deeply, mouth wet and searing, he finds his own release with both their hands stroking him to completion.  He comes in long white streaks over Eggsy’s stomach and chest, groaning deeply into the kiss that Eggsy refuses to release him from while his body shudders from the force of it.  The haze of his orgasm is drawn out by the way Eggsy kisses him, tells him he loves him with his words and his hands, keeps him held close as if he never intends to let go.

That night they order take away and eat lazily in the living room.   They curl up together, mostly naked, in front of a movie neither pays much attention to, finding any excuse available to touch and kiss every chance they have.

When they finally retire for the evening, Harry falls asleep to the sound of Eggsy’s breathing, chest rising and falling gently beneath Harry’s head. In that moment he’s convinced he’s never been so happy in his entire damned life.

There are still months and months of physical therapy ahead for Eggsy, but his restrictions don’t last forever.

The day Eggsy finally gets to remove his sling for good, Harry makes reservations for 8 pm at Eggsy’s favorite restaurant.  But when Eggsy shows up at his doorstep at quarter after seven Harry takes one, long look at him and knows they won’t be going anywhere except straight up to his bed.

“I was under the impression this wasn’t really your style.”  He says quietly once he door is shut and they are pressed close.  Harry smooths his hands down the familiar line of Eggsy’s blue, tight cut waistcoat, fingers dancing at the top of his dark, arse hugging jeans.   

“Eh.  Not really, no.”  He very purposely looks up at Harry from beneath his lashes and bites his lip, because the cheeky man has learned exactly how weak at the knees that makes him.  “But I remember the reaction it got me.  Was hopin’ for a repeat.”

Harry drags a single finger down the side of Eggsy’s neck and then just under the deep V of his white shirt.  Eggsy’s mouth falls open just a touch, lips parted as he gasps in a tiny noise.  “How well is that working out for you, darling?”

Eggsy’s slowly spreading smile is sultry, a spark of excitement in his eyes, and Harry is struck not just by his beauty but by how much he loves this man, how much he never wants to let him go.  The last two months have been a whirlwind of a relationship but after more than two years of friendship, of yearning silently on both sides, they had finally opened up to each other. And being together felt more natural than breathing.

He looks like he’s about to answer but pauses, after seeming to see something in Harry’s gaze.  “Harry?”  Eggsy slips his hand along the back of Harry’s head and into his hair, a questioning look in his eyes.

“I love you.”  He states as a simple fact.  The sky is blue, water is wet, and Harry loves Eggsy with everything he has.  Eggsy’s face breaks into a wide and brilliant smile just before he closes the distance between them to kiss Harry within an inch of his life.  They move together for a long time, hands wandering, tongues slipping against each other in a way that is quickly becoming comfortable in its familiarity.  Eggsy pushes him back until Harry is pressed against the wall, already going for his tie.

But Harry stops him, grabbing Eggsy’s hands before he can start to pull it down.  “Just a moment.”  He pulls his hands up to kiss Eggsy’s knuckles, giving him a reassuring and loving smile.  “I need to tell you something while we are both still fully - _completely_ \- clothed.”

There’s a beat of silence before Eggsy laughs quietly, dipping his head down in a nod.  “Alright…”  He kisses their entwined fingers as well, nose brushing Harry’s.

Harry’s heart is pounding in his chest and he actually feels almost nervous, which is an unusual feeling for him.  “Eggsy…” he starts, kissing him again before continuing.  “I intend to take you to my bed very shortly and completely ravish you.”

“I thought we was already on the same page ‘bout that.”

“Yes.”  He nods.  “But I intend to take you there, and keep you there.”  Harry takes a deep breath.  “Quite possibly for the rest of my life.”

Eggsy’s hands grip vice-like to Harry’s and his eyes widen but Harry is not apologetic in the slightest.  He means it, and he refuses to keep anything he feels from Eggsy.

“You know,” Eggsy says, not letting up on his grip.  “Forever is, well, it’s kind of terrifyin’, yeah?”

Harry nods in agreement – because god is it ever – but he stands firm.  “It really is.”

Then Eggsy moves, untangling from Harry’s grip to place a hand over the left side of Harry’s chest and one at the back of his neck again.  He kisses him, as soft and sweet as ever and Harry melts into it.  The constant embers of desire he has for Eggsy begin to come alive into a roaring flame.  And when he pulls back, it’s just enough so Harry can see his eyes clearly, see the deep affection there.  “’S good thing nothing is _near_ as terrfyin’ as I think it’s gonna be, as long as I’m with you.”

Harry surges forward, pulling Eggsy against him to kiss him deeply, holding him tight as if to never let go.  Against him Eggsy’s body is beautifully pliant, pressing against his at every inch, a solid warmth against him that leaves him more breathless than their kiss.  Eggsy shifts just enough so their legs are slotted together and starts rutting forward, putting pressure against Harry’s slowly filling cock.  They both start letting out small gasps between them, the rhythm of their kiss broken by the building need for more.

When Eggsy moves from Harry’s mouth to his jaw and his neck, finally undoing his tie, the heat of his lips against Harry’s skin surges through his spine.  “I love you so damned much, Harry.”  He murmurs against his pulse point, breath hot across his heightened nerves.  Eggsy’s fingers start working Harry’s buttons, adding teeth to his attentions.  His jacket is pulled open first, followed quickly by his shirt.  Before he really knows what’s going on beyond the connection of the sensations on his neck to the heat pooling in his groin, there are hands roaming his bare chest.  Eggsy’s touch is light and ghosting across his skin, pausing to tease his thumbs around both of Harry’s nipples before pressing in hard.  The electricity it sends to every inch of his body has him arching up against Eggsy’s hips just as Eggsy’s are rolling forward.  They both make needy noises and Harry is entirely unashamed to admit that his is far louder and more wanton than Eggsy’s, which is likely why the kissing at his neck suddenly ceases and is replaced by open laughter.

“Hmm…”  Eggsy says, hands wandering lower, working the button on Harry’s fly.  “Wonder if I can get you to do that again.”

“I have absolutely no doubt…”  His words are broken by his own moan when Eggsy’s’ fingers slip beneath the fabric of his trousers and reach down to gently cup his balls.  “ _Christ_ , Eggsy.”

“What were you saying?”  Eggsy smirks and Harry really has no choice but to kiss it off of him.

When they break apart again to catch their breath, still so close, lips barely parted, Harry tries once more.  “I have no doubt in your abilities, darling.”  He says with a dark tone.

“Hmm.”  Eggsy plants a quick, closed mouth peck to Harry’s lips then smirks again.  “Me either.”  And then he winks and drops to his knees, pulling the top of Harry’s trousers and boxers with him just low enough to free his cock.  Harry drops his head back against the wall to try and gather himself for what he’s about to watch, for the anticipation of everything Eggsy does to him.

When he looks down, Eggsy is looking up at him with heavily lidded eyes, licking his lips and looking hungry.  His cock pulses at the sight and his breath catches in his chest.  Harry strokes his cheek a few times and smiles before curling his fingers in Eggsy’s hair.  “You are rather competent with that beautiful mouth of yours.”

Eggsy starts with wet kisses, tip to base, then licks a long, hot stripe back to the head where he finally parts his lips and sucks lightly, fluttering his tongue just underneath and sending sparks of pleasure through Harry’s skin.  He does everything he can to keep his hips still, to not push forward into his mouth despite how desperate he is to feel the wet heat of him.

Harry revels in the view of his cock disappearing into Eggsy’s eager lips.  He can’t take all of him for more than a second or two, though he certainly tries.  But he more than makes up for it, not just with his enthusiasm, but with the dexterity of his tongue, the way he flicks it against his slit, uses it as a pressure point whenever he pulls back.  His mouth is a tight, wet heat around him, building the tension in Harry’s body until his toes are curling and his knees actually start to shake. “Oh, _Eggsy_.”  He breathes out, Eggsy’s name pinched off at the end from the way Eggsy looks up at him then.  “You are so beautiful like this.”

A shudder runs down Harry’s spine when their eyes lock with Eggsy’s lips still around him.  He hums around Harry’s cock at the praise, taking him far too close to the edge far too soon.  He lets him continue as long as he can take, right until Eggsy puts a firmer pressure around the base of him, shocking the breath from Harry and he tugs at his hair, pulling him back with a little more force than he intends.

But Eggsy groans with it as he pulls off with a filthy pop.

There’s a string of spit and precome that hovers between them that Eggsy breaks with his finger before sucking on it lightly, glancing up at Harry with an expectant look in his eyes.  Harry runs his thumb along Eggsy’s bottom lip, which he flicks his tongue against and goes to suckle before Harry uses the lightest pressure to encourage him to stand.

“I need to fuck you, Eggsy.  Right now.”

Another smirk graces Eggsy’s red and slightly swollen lips.  “Bed?”

“Bed.”  Harry confirms with a curt nod, turning Eggsy around by the good shoulder and guiding him forward before kicking out of his own trousers and leaving them forgotten on the ground floor.

By the time they are upstairs Harry’s head is drowning in desire.  His body is overheated, pulse out of control, and he is aching to feel every inch of Eggsy’s body, to bury himself in the heat and the tightness, to taste his skin on his tongue, to chase the way he gasps and loses himself to Harry’s touch.  Harry knows so much already from the last few weeks yet still has _so much_ more to learn.  And he intends to learn everything.

No matter how long that takes.

“Harry…”  Eggsy is nearly whining his name while Harry mouths at his neck, simultaneously working on any button still in his way.  There’s a hand gripped in his hair and when Harry bites just a little harder Eggsy’s grip tightens and he surges up to his toes.  “Oh, fuck, Harry.  I need you, righ’ now.”

“You have no idea, darling.”  Harry’s words are dark, full of promise.  “The things I intend to do to you.”  He pushes both layers off Eggsy’s shoulders and down his arms, immediately working on his trousers next.

In no time Eggsy is naked, chest rising and falling with a fast and heavy pace when he drags Harry down to the bed with him.  “Maybe, but I sure as fuck know what I want you to do to me.”

As much as Harry wants to drive Eggsy mad with his mouth, there’s something else his body yearns for much, much more desperately.  “I’m going to bury myself in you, Eggsy.”  He says against his lips, bodies flush while he reaches for the night stand.  “Open you up for me slowly and then fuck you until we both feel it for days.”

Eggsy’s eyes glaze over while he watches Harry slick his fingers and start to rub them together.  He parts his legs and cants his hips, breathless voice betraying any sense of control he’d been trying to show.  “Promises, promises.”

Harry kisses him to distract him, to taste the gasp that comes when he slides his hands down between Eggsy’s legs and teases his entrance, circling the tight muscle with a light tip of his finger.  “When have I ever…”  He asks when Eggsy drops his head back to catch his breath.  “…made you think I’m anything less than a man of my word?”

When Eggsy tries to rock his hips down, to get more pressure and encourage him to push further he shakes his head.  “Never.  C’m _on_ , love.  Please.”

At Eggsy’s words he kisses him, tongue claiming his mouth, licking into him in a tiny example of everything to come.  He presses in just to the first knuckle with a gentle motion just at his rim.  “Patience, Eggsy, is a virtue.”

Eggsy tries to fuck himself down on Harry’s finger, a deep flush slowly spreading across his body as he moans.  “Christ, Harry.  I’m naked with your finger in my arse, hard as a rock and beggin’ for your cock.”  He grips Harry’s hair and pulls him down for a rough kiss.  It’s wet, biting and Harry can nearly taste his desire.  When they part they’re both gasping for air, gazes locked on each other.  “Aint _nothin_ ’ virtuous ‘bout either of us right now.”

“Hm.”  Harry nips down Eggsy’s jaw around until he can drag his teeth along the shell of his ear.  “Fair point.”

And then he moves.

Eggsy reacts beautifully, soft noises of pleasure with every slide of Harry’s finger, cursing quietly when he adds second and begins to properly open him up, to stretch him bit by pleasurable bit.  It’s not long before the slide of his fingers meets very little resistance and Eggsy begins fucking himself down on Harry’s fingers in earnest.  He’s greedy with his movements, small moans of ‘more’ and ‘harder’ between the moments he catches his breath and Harry occupying his attention with a series of promising kisses.  He does as he’s asked, moving faster and slowly beginning to bend his knuckles to change the angle of pressure until Eggsy starts to arch off of the bed.

When Harry bends his fingers just enough to drag against his prostate, Eggsy’s hips jerk upwards and he shouts, followed by several noisy breaths and then a hiss that is decidedly not from a place of pleasure, even though he tries to keep moving through it.

Harry, however, stills with his fingers buried deep in his lover’s body.

“Eggsy?”  His brow furrows in concern but Eggsy shakes his head.

“It’s just my shoulder don’t – god, please don’t stop, Harry you feel so fuckin’ good.”

Apparently, healed enough to not be in danger of reopening or damaging any wounds did not equate to being actually healed and Harry knew that, knows that, silently curses himself for not even thinking about it.

“No, my darling.”  He slowly, carefully slips his hand away and arranges a few of his pillows against his headboard so he can roll over and lean back against it at an angle.  “Come here.”

Though Eggsy whines at the loss of Harry’s fingers, the moment he realizes the change in plans his face lights up with anticipation and he moves eagerly, throwing his leg over Harry’s so that he’s positioned in his lap, on his knees, already rolling his hips and dragging his bottom lip through his teeth.

“Oh, I like this.”

Harry is instantly enamored with the position as well.  It’s easier to see everything, to feel the way Eggsy’s cock is hot and deliciously hard between them, smearing precome on his stomach as Harry finally begins stretching him with three fingers.  It also gives more space for Eggsy to move, to tilt his head and expose the long lines of his neck which Harry is helpless against the urge to claim.

It doesn’t take much time before Eggsy’s entire body is covered in a deep flush and his back is arched at a steep angle while he clings one hand to Harry’s shoulder.  “Fuck, please Harry.  Need your cock, been thinkin’ about it so damned long.”

And Harry can’t really say anything against that, has no intention to draw this out any further with as much as he craves.  He doesn’t even say anything, doesn’t acknowledge his plea with anything more than a heated kiss and a slow draw of his fingers from Eggsy so he can slick his own length and pull Eggsy forward, pull him closer.  They’re nearly pressed flush while he holds himself steady and encourages Eggsy to lower himself with his other hand on Eggsy’s hip.

His pulse is hammering away in his chest and in his head, Eggsy with a death grip on his shoulders and holding his gaze.  The green of his eyes is strikingly beautiful like this, with the glaze of lust and such rapt attention to Harry.  They tease at kissing one another, lips barely touching and sharing a breath, unable to truly focus on the action once Harry finally feels the white hot heat of Eggsy’s body taking him in.  Eggsy goes achingly slow, stopping half way with his eyes fluttering closed.  Tension is already ratcheting up through every inch of Harry’s body.

Their hips finally meet and they both fall completely still, Eggsy’s head dropped forward, cradled into the crook of Harry’s neck while Harry has his arms wrapped around Eggsy’s body.  A shudder runs down Eggsy’s spine which Harry can feel all the way through his own body and he moans, kissing Eggsy’s shoulder.  He drags one hand up to Eggsy’s hair, runs his fingers along his scalp with his blunt nails purposely against the skin.  While Eggsy breathes carefully he murmurs something against Harry’s skin, sound muffled and incoherent.

“What was that?”  Harry asks with a smile and a kiss to Eggsy’s neck.  He lifts his hips carefully, just enough for a slight shift, and is rewarded with a moan and a flutter of muscles around his cock which sparks a jolt through his own skin.

“I fuckin’ love you, Harry.”  He pulls himself back, draping his arms around Harry’s shoulders and kissing him so sweetly, a tender movement of lips that Harry loses himself in, enough that when Eggsy starts to rock his hips in a shallow movement it startles a breath from him.  Harry lets Eggsy set their pace, and they watch each other closely, Eggsy never pulling himself up very much which Harry could do forever, nerves coming alive at the feeling of being taken in so deeply.  

They move together for what feels like an eternity, building their pleasure up achingly slow until they reach a plateau.  One of them is going to have to take them a step further, to put them over the edge into something more, more heated, far more carnal.

Harry draws his knees up just enough to plant his feet against the mattress, then snaps his hips to meet Eggsy’s next downward roll.  His own reaction is almost as shocked as Eggsy’s, both men quickly lost to the sensations.

“ _Eggsy_ …”  Harry breathes out as they start to properly fuck, hips snapping together over and over in rapid succession that grips his pleasure tightly and tugs it forward, winding him up, teetering on the edge as he watches Eggsy’s head fall back and his mouth fall open, filthy slick sounds the only thing in the air besides their deep moans.

He grips Eggsy’s hips, fingers curling into the flesh of his arse just as Eggsy starts to curse, to repeat Harry’s name over and over again in a litany of breathless warning.  It’s like a benediction from his lips, a song to Harry’s senses.  Eggsy comes, shouting Harry’s name one last time when he spills between them.  His body clenches repeatedly in a heated, sinful vice around Harry’s cock that has every muscle in his body tight and on the edge of release, holding out just long enough to continue fucking Eggsy through his orgasm.

It’s not until Eggsy opens his eyes again, meets Harry’s heated gaze as he’s clinging to his last shred of control that he loses it completely.

“Harry.”  Eggsy drags out his name against Harry’s lips.  “I love you Harry, come on.”  He kisses his nose and his cheek, the very corner of his lips.  “Let go.”

Harry kisses him in a rough and fierce movement as he brings them together once, twice more before finally pulling him down hard and clinging to him with enough pressure to bruise as he comes, groaning into Eggsy’s greedy kiss.  His release is a powerful wave of heat and ecstasy coursing through his veins with such potency it feels like electricity across his skin.

They come down together, the heat of their kiss slowly fading into something sweeter, softer.  Sharing themselves equally, revelling in the taste of one another.  Harry has no idea how long they remain there, locked together, arms wrapped up in such a loving embrace that he could quite happily remain in that bed forever.

But the evening moves on.  They share a shower and eventually wander down to the kitchen to throw together something resembling a dinner, never straying far enough away from each other that they can’t easily reach out and touch, can’t pull the other close and steal a thousand and one lingering kisses.

When they make it back to the bed Harry takes his time worshiping every inch of Eggsy’s body in his favorite way, with his mouth and with his tongue.  He sings his praises, revels in the way Eggsy smiles and blushes whenever Harry tells him how beautiful he is, how much he loves him.  Harry brings Eggsy to completion one last time before they settle in beneath the blankets for the night, Eggsy’s back pressed flush against Harry’s chest, Harry’s hand splayed out just over Eggsy’s heart and Eggsy tracing the lines of Harry’s arm.

It’s dark and blissfully silent in the room, nothing but the two of them in existence.  “Eggsy.”  Harry says quietly with a kiss to the back of his neck.

“Hm?”  His response is tired and he shifts against him.

“In the morning,” he begins, continuing to kiss his soft skin.  “If you feel the need to go for a run, please do me the kindness of leaving a rather large banner tied between the bedposts.”

Eggsy turns in his arms in a slow and careful motion, meeting Harry’s gaze and looking at him closely.

“Harry.”  He brings a hand up and rests it against Harry’s cheek.  “Don’t worry.  I love you, and I won’t be goin’ anywhere ever again.”  He kisses Harry softly, a warm press of lips before he whispers between them.  “Promise.”

And Harry knows, deep in his heart without any doubt lingering whatsoever, that Eggsy means it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ps. [ I have a tumblr! ](http://toriceratops.tumblr.com/) It's never dedicated to just one thing and tends to be all over the place but I'm kind of fun to hang out with.


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